Octahedron
by PersephonesNauticalNun
Summary: Set after Abnormally Attracted to Sin.  "But my heart, it asks, just one more time, 'Are you still a mess...'"
1. Since we've been Wrong Part 1

**Author's Notes**

_I am experimenting. I wanted to get that out of the way. I wanted a style that was different from Naomi's, and noticeably so. The problem is that I don't know how well it translates, or how difficult it is to follow. Please let me know. This is the ONLY time I will ask for feedback. It is usually against my moral code. But if this proves to be too difficult to follow then I will either leave this chapter as it is, use it as an introduction into the new story, and write the remaining chapters in a more coherent fashion (which is probably what I'll wind up doing anyway, because the style may prove to be too difficult to maintain), or I may have to completely rewrite the chapter._

_Note to those who haven't read Abnormally Attracted to Sin: Go do so now. You will NOT understand this story unless you have._

_Warnings: actual insertion of reader into narrator's head (style experimentation mentioned above), slutty!Emily, the entrance but non-action of Naomi_

**Disclaimer**

_I do not known Emily, Naomi, or any of the opening chapter lyrics. The characters belong to the Skins folk, and the lyrics belong to The Mars Volta._

**Octahedron**

**Chapter One: Since we've been Wrong (Part 1)**

**By Persephone's Nautical Nun**

_Do you remember how you wore that dress?  
It slit my sight beneath the eyelids.  
Do you remember what you said to me?  
What course has given you the right to stray?_

_And in your living tomb, I'm stuck but safe.  
The clocks are ticking fast with every breath._

_Since we've been wrong  
I've been part awake  
Since we've been wrong  
You will never, ever know me  
What took you so long?  
I'm not sure all the way_

_But my heart, it asks, just one more time  
Are you still a mess?_

Move stage left, you've been ignoring them for the past few minutes. Sink your voice down, make it growl, get right in close. The lights are hot, and there's sweat trickling down my temple. Hand through hair, sling it at the audience, and watch them revel in it. People are gross. God, I need a drink. Time to signal Jazz for her solo.

Drink fast, shake it off. My glove is soaked, now. Wish Jazz hadn't insisted on me wearing it. Concentrate, Ems. Don't fuck this up.

Back to the front, full of energy now, make it hot. You're tired, but it's almost over. Last number.

Darkness. Don't breathe, yet. Grab equipment, and scurry away.

Now you can breathe. There's Jazz, saying encouraging things. This was the largest stage you've ever been on, but you rocked it.

Now to wait for the results.

Heart slowing down. That's good. Maybe my head will start working normally soon. Chug a fresh bottle of water, that's what you need. Never realized that stage presence gets harder the larger the stage gets, and this wasn't even in the ballpark of large.

But I had only managed small venues when I was with the boys. Though I guess that comes with the territory of joining a group with a built in fan base. Automatic larger venues.

Band battles are lame. Everyone knows this. But when the prize is studio time, and a local area single release, and the consolation money isn't bad either, exceptions can be made.

This last band isn't bad. The vocals suck, but the bass matches Jazz. But we were better. I think some of the earlier bands were pretty good, but I was too concerned with the stage, and figuring out how I was going to move across it, and under those lights without dying. It's a wonder you managed to sing at all.

Must be why most performers are so skinny. Yeah, we'll go with that.

Someone's nudging me. I can feel myself leaning in regular intervals. Lean… lean… lean… Jazz. "What do you want?"

"Just to say, once again, that I love your fucking accent."

Don't respond. There's no point by now. It's all been said before. I am fully aware that one of the only reasons I was chosen as replacement singer is because of how I talk.

The other is because of how I love.

I know this, because she's told me on several different occasions.

The lights go out on stage as the last note from the last band fades out. "Come on, let's go," and now I'm being dragged by the wrist through a door, and out into the muggy night air.

"You look like you need this," Jazz says. She pulls a bump out of her pocket. I don't need it. Do it, anyway, though. I know I'll want its social skills later. She probably knows that, too.

Cigarette time. Into the fire it goes. Fuck the voice. Smoking gives it an interesting range. Sometimes, I think I just like to breathe things other than air. I like the heat. Jazz is good. She knows what I want, and what I don't need. I think I'll keep her around.

Though I think it may be the other way around at the moment.

"You did good work out there," she says to me. I guess so. Could have been better. Tell her as much, but she just shakes her head. "Compared to what you're used to, you were the best damn front woman here." The important parts of that sentence are the words "compared to." Might actually mean I fucked us all over.

Aw. Cigarette's done. Time to go inside. Maybe they'll announce the winner. Maybe the night can really start.

Inside feels cold compared to outside, and I think I miss the lights. No I don't. They made me feel like I would spontaneously combust. I just want to be outside again, with another cigarette.

The crowd gets quiet. This must be it. I watch some kid walk across the stage, paper in hand, and feel nothing. I am not expectant, though I can feel it coming from my band mates.

He tries. He tries so hard to make it suspenseful, but it doesn't work out for him. Poor guy. He calls out the winning band and the runner up, and I feel the vibe deaden.

But, hey, like I said, the runner up prize money is nothing to scoff at.

* * *

Mm, money burning in your pocket. How you love that feeling. But where to go? Usual club circuit, I think. Hottest girl there, too. Nothing's impossible, tonight.

It's a good turn out tonight. Options, without the spotlight. No one sticks out. Not yet, anyway. Go buy yourself a drink. The night is young.

Keep your eyes peeled. Look for her; you know she's here. The girl you're going to go home with. Down one shot. One more. One fluid motion, girl, you know it looks good. See? Nearby eyes on you.

The things I learned from my sister.

Rule number one: No one is safe from the Fitch twins, male or female. There's one for either gender. And I've learned that the two aren't entirely dissimilar. A vast majority of what works on men also works on women. In fact, I'd say that in the pickup and sex department, men are the real pussies.

There she is, out on the dance floor. Circle around. Don't approach directly. She's dancing with a tall blonde, so intercepting her is going to be delicate. Brush up against the blonde first, and make her turn. Use the space to slip between them.

There's the look. Flash your smile, and watch it fade. She knows she just upgraded. Move in close, try not to touch. Fall into sync with her dancing. Don't make her work. At least not yet. She will make the first move, though. She always does.

Sure enough, her hand reaches out and comes to rest on my side. This is a done deal. "Do you want a drink?" she yells, and my smile grows wider.

"How about I buy you a drink?" I ask, leaning in close to her ear so that I don't have to yell. I have to invade her personal space to do it, and it's inappropriate. But they like it when I turn that offer around on them. Makes her feel special.

Walk away slowly. Don't ask her what she wants. Pretty much everybody will drink a screw driver. Bar tender is easy. Toss my hair, and the flash of color easily catches her eyes. Drinks come fast, but don't deliver straight away. Tardiness just makes them want you more.

I can play this game all night.

Rule number two: Always make them wait.

Eager, this one is. I extend her drink in her directions. She's one of those girls that sip from the straw, and it's amazing she had the initiative to offer me a drink. I already don't like her.

Perfect.

Don't look at her too much. You're only mildly interested. She just tries harder. Notice her give you the once over out of the corner of your eye. Nothing but meat to each other, but that's okay. Keeps things simple.

Wow, I'm impressed. Didn't think she'd have the balls to touch me again, let alone drag me across the room. She shoves me down on a couch and straddles me. So impersonal. So violent. And exactly what I need. Tongue down my throat, and I know tonight's going to be a good night.

This is the best part. She thinks she's going to take the lead; has forgotten that every time she tried to, I took it back. Has even forgotten that we don't know each other's names. She already thinks she owns me, and when she finds out she doesn't… well, the look in their eyes is almost something worth living for.

Shiver. What is that? Something is not where it's supposed to be. Take control, and flip her over. Move her from your direct line of sight so you can figure this out.

There, at the entrance. The flashing multicolor lights cannot mask that particular shade of blonde. Looks like she's let her hair grow out. What the fuck is she doing here?

We have to move. And quickly.

Give her a minute. Let her orient herself, and move into the crowd. Kiss your girl here; you'll leave in a minute. Who is that she's talking to? Some grungy fellow. He seems out of place. This may be harder than originally thought.

There you go. Both of you move forward. "Let's get out of here." Whisper in the ear; nip the lobe. "I want to fuck you. Hard." It doesn't really matter what I say, as long as it's dirty. The girls over here swoon at the sound of my voice. I can feel her tremble.

Now. Lift her up off the couch, get her on her feet. Lead her out, but stick to the wall. Don't linger outside. Don't even linger on the street. "Where's your place?" I usually don't push so quickly. Better to let her ask which place we're going, but I can't wait tonight. We have to get out of here.

Ah, the lower head, lip biting, and grin combination. If I didn't know it was done before, I do now. She pulls me by both hands a few steps before turning around and leading me. Walk faster. Not too fast. Make her think you're just eager to get there, rather than away from here.

That's right, girl. This night's all about you.

And when we get to your place, you're the only one I think about. Honest. The girl I ran away from doesn't even factor. If she did, there's no way I could take you this way; up against the wall, and half-clothed.

Yes, you mean so much to me. Just like all the others. Now get on your knees.

* * *

Jazz is still awake, but that's to be expected. This is what we do. Close the door. Lock it. Flop down on the couch beside her. Load a bowl.

"That was quick," she says. I catch the glow of the ember on the spliff as she moves it to her mouth.

"Quick find." Shrug. Light the pipe. Hand it to Jazz after she extinguishes the joint.

"Not good?"

Shrug again. "They're all pretty much the same." Watch Jazz try to blow smoke rings. It's entertaining, if nothing else.

She laughs. I don't know why, but she does. There are some things that are only funny to her. "Yeah, I guess. I mean, if you've got the game down to be home by now…" She lets the sentence hang, but I know the rest of it.

Jazz doesn't usually say anything she doesn't have to.

"Did you even bother to wait until she was asleep?" She shakes her head. Pretends to scold me. "You're not a gentleman, anymore."

I could tell her. I will tell her. Not now, though. Not tonight. It's a conversation for tomorrow. Take the pipe. Breathe deep. "What about you? Shouldn't you still be busy?" Gesture to her room. She knows what you mean.

"Not tonight." Well, that's unexpected. It's a rare night that I come back to the loft to find her alone.

"Don't tell me you're moping about the loss tonight." That's not why, but I might as well take a stab in the dark. Keeps the conversation going, and there's nothing else to do. Should probably care what the real reason is. Will eventually. Just not right now.

She shakes her head. "Now that I've got you out every night, there's no reason for e to be seen as much. People recognize the singer over the bassist much more readily."

I nudge her thigh with my foot. "Are you calling me a whore?"

"No, you are. You are the one who said that all the girls are pretty much the same. I am calling you free publicity, though. While a vast majority of people won't care, there will be an underground zine somewhere retelling the story of your seduction of yet another one of San Francisco's finest."

Steal the pipe from her. Cunt. "You think we're far bigger than we really are." Okay, so you probably don't. When I joined up, you already had a fairly decent following; one that you were relieved didn't run along with your singer, and excited when it grew because of the replacement, but that's beside the point.

Wait. What is the point?

Oh, right.

There is none.

But at least I'm useful.

"One of these days, some one who matters will take notice." Humor her. We have a shot, but there's no guarantee. There's never any guarantee. Learned that one the hard way.

"Besides, I knew that when we got a lesbian with an accent, I knew it would just be a matter of time. Every credible girl-band has a lesbian. And everyone knows they're into the Europeans. Don't bother denying it."

Heard this speech before. Could recite it by heart. Not that it bothers me. When shit hit the fan, I was glad to have Jazz around. Lucky that her previous singer quit. Right. I believe that for one fucking second.

She grabs a remote and changes the music. The Album Leaf. Tosses a few glow sticks at me. "Go on; let's see what you've got."

I'm tired, and don't feel like raving. Do it anyway, because my bed is occupied. Her loft, though, so I can't really complain. Just a song. That'll be enough.

"What's wrong?" she asks, halfway through the track. Don't dignify it with a response. She doesn't need to know everything. "I know you. You enjoy the game way too much for a 'quick find.'"

Fuck. Just leave it alone. Just for tonight. Toss the glow sticks back at her. Let her be the lab rat. "Guess the performance wore me out more than I thought." Lame. No one's buying it. But maybe she'll take the hint.

"Yeah, I'm calling bullshit." Off the couch she gets, sticking a freshly lit spliff in my mouth. "Try to get some rest if you're so tired." Fat chance. "We'll talk about it tomorrow."

This is the first time I've seen Jazz go to bed before dawn.

Turn the music off. Light the spliff. In that order. This requires silence. Stretch out on the couch and prepare for sleep that won't come. Haven't really slept since I've been here. Think she knows that. Inhale and free your mind.

Don't think about it. Not tonight. Don't think about how you knew she was there before you saw her. Don't think about why she's here. Probably a field trip. And don't worry about how to stay lost. San Francisco's a big place. She's not looking for you anyway, or she would have found you earlier. Same way you knew where she was.

Fuck, it may not have even been her. It's not like you got a good chance to look at her, and it was so dark and disorienting that it really could have been anyone. You reacted to someone that you thought look like her, and that was all. It's all in your head, Ems. You know that. You know her. It's not what she would do, picking up and leaving like that. She has responsibilities and shit. At least to herself.

Don't think about her at all. Close your eyes and smoke your spliff. Pretend to sleep. None of it even happened. None of it's real. Just rest. It'll all look better in the cold light of morning. Or in the very, very warm light, as the case may be.

But after the spliff's gone, my eyes keep opening, and my head won't stop. Check the clock. Over and over and over. The ceiling fan turns at a rate of 2 rotations per second. Turn to the side; bury my face in the cushion. Seems to me that daylight can't come fast enough.

Why is she here?


	2. Since we've been Wrong Part 2

**Author's Notes**

_So I know I promised more regular updates, but I've had a lot of stuff going on. Mostly relationship stuff, but it looks like that won't be a problem anymore…. Yeah… Anyway, I've gotten mixed reviews on the style, but I've decided that I'm going to try to stick with it. It's also been noted that Emily doesn't exactly seem like herself. I simply ask that you stick with me for a little while. This wasn't done on accident, and I really am going somewhere with it._

_Warnings: character / relationship development, another possible invention of a word, more OC's than ever before, friendly mischief scheme seeds_

**Octahedron**

**Chapter One: Since we've been Wrong (Part 2)**

**By Persephone's Nautical Nun**

_One day a rain will come to wash away  
The earth that held us was no island  
I have become ingrown inside this skin  
I'll find a way out through those eyelids_

_And all the days become a cast away  
I seem to think I don't belong here_

_Since we've been wrong  
I've been part awake  
Since we've been wrong  
You will never, ever know me  
What took you so long?  
I'm not sure all the way_

_But my heart, it asks, just one more time  
Are you still a mess?_

Is nine o'clock appropriate? No, better wait until ten. Let it get into the double digits. What to do until then? Don't want to make too much noise. It would be rude. Only one more cigarette. Might as well smoke it. I'll get more later.

Meditate for a while. Re-find your center. The world is as it has been, and the apparition means nothing. Been trying to convince myself of that for the past five hours. Deep, clean breathing. It's been doing me wonders the past two months. Every morning, before getting the day started. Focus my energy inward, and be at peace with myself. Seems to make the whole day better. No reason it shouldn't work today, last night's ghost or no.

9:50. Calmer now. Time to start rolling a spliff. Always good to wake up to. Roll step to Jazz's room, and light it up. Ease the door open, that's it. Mind the squeaky floorboard. Blow smoke in her direction, disturb the sleep. Now's your chance. Slide the tip of the spliff between her lips, and laugh as she jolts awake.

She recovers quickly. She always does, and I leave the room as she smokes.

Go make coffee. The both of you need it. And sure enough, by the time you're finished, Jazz wanders out, handing you the last half of the spliff while she prepares her coffee.

We've got a pretty decent routine down.

"How'd you sleep?" she asks me from somewhere in the kitchen. I'm already back on the couch with my spliff and coffee.

And fuck all else.

Speak between sips and hits. "As per usual."

"So not at all then," she says, coming back into the living room and sitting beside me. No need to respond. It wasn't a question, after all.

Don't wait for her to ask. You know she's going to if you don't open your mouth soon. And when she does, you won't want to tell her anymore. "Naomi's here."

She swallows her gulp quickly and sets the mug down. Her eyebrows make me giggle. "Seriously?"

Nod. That's all. Make no expression. There's no expression to make, because this has no bearing on my life. I am done.

"How do you know?"

Shrug. This is nonchalant, remember? "Saw her at the club last night."

"Well, what happened?" She's far too eager. Too bad she's going to be disappointed. There's no story to hear. And there never will be.

Focus on the spliff. Fix a run. "Nothing. I didn't talk to her." The spliff is far more interesting than the conversation at hand. Hit it again, check the run. Lean over and knock the ash into the tray.

Glance over at Jazz. She's been silent for far too long. Great. She's got "devious plot" face. I've never been on the receiving end of it, but it usually means disaster for those that are.

And this could easily be a disaster. There are too many people here than know about Naomi. I just hope it's not enough.

"No." That came off more like scolding a dog, but it gets my point across.

"I just want to see!" You'd think she was a kid in a zoo. What does that make me? "You know I will, whether you want me to or not." Sigh. Maybe you shouldn't have told her. Or maybe this is exactly why you did.

Keep your voice calm. Don't get overexcited, or it will just make things worse. This is not the time for emotion. There's never time for emotion. "What difference will it make?"

She gets up and deposits her mug in the sink. "All the difference in the world." I hear her door close followed by the sound of the shower. My life just got way more complicated than it needs to be.

* * *

Warm shower. That's just what I need. Set the pressure to high and let the water beat into you. It's the only thing that relieves the tension in your muscles.

Because, let's face it, I haven't been relaxed in two months.

What day is it? Can't remember. Suppose it doesn't really matter.

I like to stand in the shower after the water's off, and let the droplets slide down my body. Let the air dry my skin before stepping out and grabbing a towel for my hair. It sets my nerves on edge, and keeps me lively.

I should go see Shane, today. Haven't seen him in a while and I'd hate for him to think I don't love him anymore. Brush the hair, pull on clothes, and I'm out the door. Oops. Almost forgot the spliff. Must never forget the spliff.

He's not hard to find. He has about three streets that he likes to peddle his art on, and it's on the second that I find him. Ever-lasting smile on his face. Never change, Shane. Never change.

"Hey, what's up?" It doesn't take him long to spot me, though the bright red hair is awfully eye-catching. He looks so excited to see me. Nod in his direction. It's not much, but it's enough.

"Naomi's here." Okay, why? Why is that the first thing I say? Am I trying to dig myself deeper? Jesus, Fitch, pull yourself together. This is not who you are.

I don't think Shane knows how to react. I guess I don't, either. "When did this happen?" Right, Shane. Act like you've been expecting this all along. Hell, maybe we all were.

It would be nice to reach a decision some time in the near future.

Shrug. Light a fag. "Not sure. I ran into her last night."

"Well, what happened?" He's genuinely curious. I haven't seen Shane genuine about anything in a while. Good to see bits of him now and again.

Bad choice of words, though. "Nothing. Didn't even speak to her." He's confused. My fault. Why can't I be direct with him? Why can't I be direct with anybody? Best clarify. "I didn't run into her, so much as saw her and ran away."

"And why would you do that?"

Shrug. Brought this on yourself, really. Wouldn't have brought it up if you didn't want to talk about it. Stop lying to yourself.

You're not Naomi.

And there's no reason to keep her alive.

"Nothing to say." Too cool. Obvious to anyone I'm lying. "No. That's not it." Long drag of the fag.

"I know." He's being nice, really. Probably smiling, but I don't need to check.

"I guess I'm scared. I've spent so long convincing myself that life is one way, and her showing up here threatens those beliefs. I don't want to give up what I've worked so hard to build."

"But wouldn't it be amazing if things aren't as you've constructed them?"

"Now, that's just mean."

He laughs. Conversation's over. Got out what I wanted to get out. What I needed to get out. Think I wanted to tell Jazz.

Think I want to tell everyone.

Maybe it won't be so heavy, then.

Someone's watching me; watching Shane; looking at the art. I'm not sure which. Study him from the corner of my eye. Indefinite nationality, unruly poof of curly hair that could be ruly if he took care of it. Decked out in black and chains, though, so not taking care of it may be the whole point. The glasses are a nice touch, but I don't like how familiar he feels.

I've never seen him before in my life.

Make eye contact; put him on the spot. Let's see what happens. Shane follows my eye; shouts, "Hey, dude, what's up?" Always ready to make a few bucks, that one.

Startled him. He wasn't looking at the art, but now he is. He covers well. Think I'm the only one who noticed. Shane didn't. I can tell by the honest way he's trying to make a sale.

Stop looking at me. Just pay attention to Shane. Light another fag and look away. You're not important. That's right, pay for whichever one of Shane's masterpieces you've chosen, and walk away.

"Hey, aren't you the new singer for London Riot?" That's not walking away, even in the slightest.

Appears that Jazz was right, though. We are getting noticed. Or maybe it's just me.

Want to channel Effy. Want to blow him off. Can't. It could just mean my job, and my bed. Extend hand, shake, good girl. "Yeah, that's me. Emily Fitch." Accent doesn't make him flinch. Strange, it seems to disarm everyone.

"Yeah, I saw you last night." Wait. Last night… I did see someone like him last night, but it can't be. "Man, you were robbed."

Right. Battle of the bands. He's too casual; too practiced. Something's wrong here. Shrug. "That's the way it goes. You win some, you lose some."

He nods like he understands. I'm not sure he's even listening. "Where are you playing next?"

Long drag from the fag. Make him wait. Slip into performance mode. He obviously does. "Saturday night at the Red Door." Don't mention the ridiculous cover charge. Don't mention that it looks like he would hate everything we have to play. Don't mention anything.

His head's going to fall off if he continues to nod. "Cool. I'll try to check it out."

Yeah, I know you will. Then we'll find out what's going on.

Best to face this thing head on.

It's time for a walk. Say goodbye to Shane. Hug. Now, set off in a random direction.

Let's cover what we know, shall we? Naomi's in America. That guy looks like the same one I saw her with, though I have no evidence of that. I'm fairly certain he's never seen London Riot play ever, but he knew the results from last night. By referencing the fact that I'm new, it implies he's an old fan. Or maybe he's just done his homework. His interactions with me were rehearsed, and poorly.

Fuck, I don't know what to make of this.

Maybe he is just a fan; a nervous one, but a fan nonetheless. But what about Naomi? If he was the one that was with her, then it's possible he's just a pawn set out to do recon by an evil chess master.

I'm just not entirely sure who's behind it.

Fuck it, Fitch, you're just being paranoid. Just smoke yourself another cigarette and get on with life. Come on. Come on, piece of shit, light. Fuck. Perfect.

Story of my life.

Oh, gee, thanks, random stranger lighting my cigarette for me. You're all so fucking nice and helpful, aren't you?

Why am I so angry?

It's so fucking hot, I feel like I need another shower already. The sun's bright; it's always bright. What time is it? Nearly three? Done nothing all day. Not entirely unusual. Should probably get back and stoned before rehearsal. Slave driver would be pissed if I was late.

* * *

One more time, my ass. I've lost count of how many times we've run the ending of this song. Jessica keeps fucking up her riff, no matter how easy Ange makes it. Plays it fine by herself, but can't keep it together when the drums kick in.

Granted, she's doing something fairly intricate, but by now it's been watered down a lot. Just drink your water, and clear your throat. Ignore the tickle becoming a scratch. Be gone in the morning.

Good. Good, easy. Easy. Just go easy on it; the calm before the storm. Save your energy for the scream, here we go.

Uh-oh. I can feel it already. My voice is going to –

"Fuck!"

"Damn, and I finally got it right!"

Hand to the throat. That one actually hurt. "Sorry, guys. Felt that crack long before it actually happened."

"Hey, that's alright. Guess it's time to call it a night." Thanks, Jazz. Glad to know I'm the cause of the rehearsal stop. "How about we break until Friday? We're all pretty tired."

Heads nodding. Never known Jazz to take a three day break before, but my voice could use a rest. Pack up. What to do with the rest of my night?

Nudge. Jessica. "What's up?"

"We were going to go get some drinks. Want to come?"

We. Not the band. Her and the boyfriend. Fuck it; I don't see enough of AJ. "Yeah, sure." Grab my water, and head out the door. Wave to Jazz. You'll see her later.

"Hey, Emily!" Good old AJ. Really mellowed out some. Clamber into the back of Jessica's car, and settle in for the journey they have in store.

Which turns out to be the hole in the wall that Shane bartends at. Probably the only way we'll all get drinks. Round of beer, because that's what it always is.

"So, I heard something interesting." AJ's got that face that tells you all you need to know.

"You told him!" Damn you, Shane.

"Not me, man."

"Sorry. It was me." Jessica? How the fuck do you know? "Jazz." Of course. It's the same old grand fucking rumor tree. Doesn't seem to matter where you are.

"Why does everybody find this so interesting?"

"Because you moved across the world to get away from her. And because she flew across the world to follow you." Thanks, Jess. I'm glad I serve as a living soap opera.

Look at you, all of you. You're interested; you want to see what happens. But what if I don't? What if I really do know what's best? It's exactly the same and entirely different. They all belong together; belong to each other. No one here belongs to me. And I belong to no one.

And, yeah, I suppose that was the whole point.

Fuck.

I miss Katie.

Finish your beer. Smile. Laugh. Participate. "I think I'm going to head out." Turn down requests to stay graciously, and hail a cab. Let's see, clubs and random, or back home? Back home sounds safer. News appears to travel fast, and maybe last night wasn't a fluke.

Naomi's brilliant, after all.

Too early for Jazz to be home. Roll a blunt and get stupid. Soak in the tub, and laugh at your muscles trying to remember how to relax. Kinda tickles. Scrounge around in the kitchen. Don't feel like cooking.

Key in the lock; must be Jazz. It's still early.

"What are you doing here?

Point to the door. "It's dangerous out there." Full of conspiracies and audiences.

"Yeah, that it is. That's never stopped you before."

"You know what I mean." Fake nodding. Ugh. "Besides, what are you doing here?"

"I live here?"

"But you're never here this early."

"How would you know? You're never here this early."

Smart ass.

Suppose I belong to Jazz, in a strange kind of way.

Move to the couch, and start rolling a spliff. That was fun. Feel the cushion sink under the weight of her. "You know, we're never going to get noticed if one of us isn't out there consistently."

Mm, skin glue. That reminds me, "I got recognized, today."

"Oh, yeah?" Strange. Thought she'd be more excited than that.

"Yes. So now I don't have to whore around as much."

Alright, what's so funny? "No, see, now you have to step it up and be even more visible. You're going to have to fuck like, three girls a night. And twins! Everybody loves twins."

"Okay, fuck you." Light the spliff. Was going to let her light it, but now she doesn't get to, just for that comment.

Pass it on, and focus on keeping the smoke in my lungs. Up, up, and up I go. "So, is your voice going to be okay for Saturday?"

Exhale. Nod. "Should be. The break will do it some good. Sorry for needing it."

"You're good; you just don't have the endurance. You're getting there, though."

Nod. Smoke. Nothing to talk about.

"Have you decided?" Huh? What? How long have we been sitting in silence?

"What am I supposed to be deciding?"

"What you're going to do about Naomi."

"Nothing. There's nothing to do."

She chuckles. Wish she wouldn't act like she knows everything. "You don't really believe that, do you?" No. Silence. Conversation's not finished. "You're going to have to, you know." Here it is; Jazz's words of wisdom. "Before time decides for you."

She's up and to the door quicker than casual allows for. What's up? "Where are you going?"

"One of us has to get our face out there, tonight." Arched eyebrow. Something's up, and I'll probably never know what it is.

Alone. What do I do, now? What can I do? Where can I go? Where can I run? Who can I run to? I have no options. I've exhausted them already.

I wait.


	3. Since we've been Wrong Part 3

**Author's Notes**

_You should notice a change in this chapter. It's nothing visible, that I can point out, but the quality of work is better. This is because I've gotten excited about my writing again, and thus, I've gotten excited about this project again. This is the first chapter of Octahedron that I'm truly proud of._

_Warnings: Emily characterization, Jazz schemes, Naomi schemes, underlying Naomi / Jazz competition, more Emily characterization._

**Octahedron**

**Chapter One: Since we've Been Wrong (Part 3)**

**By Persephone's Nautical Nun**

_I don't belong here, I shouldn't stay.  
What falls inside me grows empty.  
The walls between us will never break.  
Just seal it shut, it grows empty._

_Since we've been wrong,  
I've been part awake.  
Since we've been wrong,  
You will never, ever know me.  
What took you so long?  
I'm not sure all the way._

_But, my heart, it asks, just one more time,_  
"_Are you still a mess…?"_

Hate the fucking Red Door. Really do. Bunch of rich kid posers trying to be alternative. Not the point, though. Not really. Sound check done. Set list prepared. Voice all rested. Let's do this thing.

Performance mode.

Shake it out, Fitch, and creep onstage. Lights are down, no one notices. Sustained bass note. Enter guitar melody. Drums. Lights. Whisper. Soft. Make them strain. This isn't a gift. Softer. Fade out. Wait for it. Wait for it. Get ready. Here it is. Full voice, and blow them away. Take the microphone from the stand and make your way toward them.

Fuck! Don't react, don't react, don't react. Knew this was going to happen. Knew they'd come; she'd come. No eye contact. Not phased in the slightest. Just have to get through the next five songs.

That's all.

Probably be easier if she weren't right in the middle of everything. Stop staring at me; I have a job to do. You've seen this before, damn you. Look good, though. Hair's longer. Gorgeous. Look softer, somehow. Worn out, though.

It's good to see you.

Concentrate, now. Not quite halfway through the set, and you're slipping. Block it out until later, and get the job done. Looks like Jazz might stab me in my sleep if I keep this up. We'll talk later. We'll talk, because that's what we do, and this won't stop if we don't. We'll talk later. First, I need to get through the next two songs.

Swig of water. Clear your throat. Nod vaguely at whatever Jazz is saying. Slower number, gotta haunt. Don't fail me now, voice. Head down, voice soft. Caress this syllable. She's good for something. Know I'm fucking on it.

Segue. Please segue. It would be brilliant. Catch my eye, Jazz. Read my mind. Low growl, build it up, tempo rising, louder growl. Easy, don't get over excited. There's Ange. Now. High pitched scream, let them fucking have it.

Good show. Definitely a good show. Things to do. Grab shit. Pack up. We need roadies.

"You're as great as ever." Oh, yeah. I have some.

We also need security.

Alright, here we go. You knew this was coming. Look up, immediate eye contact. You're not afraid of her. "Thanks." Careful. No inflection, no expression. She has no right to it.

Look at her; unplugging and wrapping wires, grabbing equipment, like she's done this before, like it's familiar. She has, though, I guess. "Bit different from what you were doing."

There's nothing to glean here, Naomi. You're grasping at straws and you know it. "This was always the goal. You know that."

"Well, not exactly, if memory serves." That damn Naomi look; with the eyebrow and the mouth shrug, and that air that screams, 'I know everything.' It's fucking infuriating, and does weird things to my insides.

That's none of her business, though. Stay cool.

"Vocals are fun." Leave it at that.

Don't you dare fucking look at me like that. It's too familiar, too sincere, too nice. You don't know me. You don't know me, anymore, so stop looking at me like you do.

Face me head on, no more equipment, no more distraction. Let's see what you've got. "You don't look surprised to see me." What's that I hear? A bit of disappointment? Good.

"That's because I'm not." Obviously not the reaction you were looking for. Weight shift. You're second guessing yourself, Naoms. Don't do it, it's not attractive.

"How did you know I was coming?"

"There was something funny about your little friend." Where is that little fucker, anyway? Over there, talking to Jess. Uh. What's that story?

"What friend?" OH, I see. Nice job, you caught me. But that means I caught you, too. Now we both know that we saw each other nearly a week ago.

"Alright, so why didn't you say something then?"

"Well, you looked like you were in a hurry." You're mocking me. You're mocking me, but you've got cheeky face. God, I want to lick my lips. Won't lick my lips. Why is she looking at them? Did they twitch anyway? What have I given away?

"Yeah, well, you know how it is…" Lame. Lame, lame, lame. Pull it together, Fitch, you're better than this. She shrugs and laughs it off. Good, maybe we've learned something here.

Why do I feel like this could be easy?

"So what happened during the first half of that?" Don't think I didn't notice you've been watching us, Jazz. Ready to jump to the rescue at any point.

Thanks.

"Sorry. Got a little distracted." Yeah, Naomi, I'm talking about you. At least you have the decency to look ashamed when Jazz sizes you up.

"So you're the famous Naomi." Jazz's voice is too loud, she's defensive. Why? Fairly certain she at least had a hand in this, if she didn't orchestrate it completely. Attention is being gathered, and I can feel the eyes of Jess and Ange, and it feels like a show's about to start.

Heh. Naomi's uncomfortable, and it's funny. "I think famous might be a little strong."

What is it, Naomi? You don't like her sidling up to you like that? You want me to save you? No. "Guess I should thank you." You get it, now. It only took her putting her arm around you, invading your personal space. "Band's better than ever now that she's singing." This is punishment.

Please, just take it. I need you to.

"She also plays the guitar." No. Not the stationary brow arch. Not the set jaw. Don't challenge this. Learn when to back down.

Even though a part of me hopes you never will.

"Yes, but you see, we already have a great guitarist. And Emily's a very good vocalist. Besides, every credible girl band is fronted by a lesbian. I've been saying this for years.."

"Well, she could do both." Thank god I'm the only one that heard that. Challenging Jazz in the mood she's in isn't the best idea for even her closest friends.

"Drinks! We should all get drinks." Jazz is already in the process of bouncing off. "You too, Naomi, come on. Bring… what's his name, Andrew? Bring Andrew."

Well, at least we'll get to the bottom of all this.

* * *

Never felt this awkward at a pub before in my life. Very decidedly Western influence, here. The band plus Naomi and Andrew, all gathered around a table. How cozy. Why is Ange here? Ange doesn't participate more than she has to, which I get. Must be a solidarity thing. Or maybe she's just that interested.

I flatter myself.

Alright, sip your drink. Relax, there's no reason not to. Just stay focused. Naomi hasn't even touched hers. Score one, Fitch. "Alright, so what happened here?"

"Why are you asking me?"

"Because you're the only one that knows the whole story, Jazz. You always do."

"Why does it matter?" Think I was the only one that heard that. It just does, Naomi.

"Actually, this time it was me." Never pegged Jessica for an evil mastermind. Guess you really do learn something new every day. "See, Andrew is my ex-boyfriend's old roommate's ex-boyfriend." Yeah, I'm just going to pretend to understand that one.

"Okay, so if you've known that Naomi's been here, why haven't you told me?"

"Because I didn't. I only caught up with him a few days ago."

"We're not exactly close."

"The timing of that reunion was awfully convenient."

Why do you look so sick, Naomi?

"That one was my fault." Knew it! Knew Jazz was involved. "After you told me that you thought you saw her, I went and talked to Jessica. Thought maybe the fact that she knows everyone might come in handy."

"So I went to investigate some of your haunts, and I ran into Andrew, who was looking for you."

Questions. More and more questions. Guess a majority of the people here can't answer them. They're questions for her. But there is one more for the general population. "Why?"

"Well, because it's great to see people more fucked up than me."

"Thanks, Ange, but I was asking why they would go to such trouble to get the two of us in a room together."

"It works for that, too."

Bet I could drink this beer faster. Shouldn't. Don't. Not yet.

"Well…" This should be good. First time he's opened his mouth all night. Second, technically. "It seems right. Two people, inseparable by the world. It's what books are made of. How can we not try to help that out?"

First of all, seriously? Ugh, whatever.

Second of all, that's not accurate. We're not inseparable by the world. We're not inseparable by anything. We were separated just fine until everybody decided they needed to get involved.

This is nobody's business but mine.

Did anyone ask me? Did anyone bother to find out what I wanted? Why do the friends that are only supposed to be mine always take Naomi's side?

I miss Katie.

Down your drink, it's safe now. Light up a fag, and grab the keys off the table. "Fuck you guys." They'll get over it. I'm fucking out of here. Did not sign up for this.

And, of course, she follows me. Somebody has to, and it has to be her. Already halfway down the street, though, so she'll have to run. Not surprised when she does. "It wasn't supposed to be like that."

Keep walking. Don't falter. Drag from the fag. "Yeah, what was it supposed to be like?" Yeah, that's what I thought. You don't even know.

Stop. Pretend to be interested in the sign on the wall. Smoke, keep your profile to her. "What are you doing here, Naomi?" Offhand. Rattle her. Least she deserves.

Worked. She's at a loss. Don't look at the way her mouth fumbles her words. "To apologize. To see you…" Nothing, then, "I don't know." Could have been in my head. "Emily…"

Just turn your head, don't give her any more. There she is, standing a few feet in front of me. Never seen her so open, hands at her sides, weight center. You have nothing to hide, do you? Not from me.

You look so tired.

Cut her a break. Brush past her, leave the moment. Too heavy, anyway. Get some questions answers. Move from there. "How did you meet Andrew?"

"I was… in a state not too long after coming here. The task of finding you seemed impossible, like finding a needle in a haystack. One day, I broke down on a bench, just for a second, just to let it out. Anyway, he noticed me, offered me a spliff, and we got to talking. He's been helping me out ever since."

"He ever hit on you?" Looks like the kind who would.

"Once, when we first met. That was before I told him everything, and since clarifying, he's never done it again."

"He's a good guy?"

"Yeah, he's a good guy."

"How long have you been here?"

"About a month."

"How did you find me?" This is a test. Better not think of playing dumb. We both know you would have found me without the help of my wonderful friends.

"You're not exactly low profile, Ems. Andrew had heard of a band that had recently switched singers, and the new one fit your description. Never found a performance before tonight, but I did start hearing about how this new singer frequented a circuit of gay bars. It was actually really easy."

Lay lower next time. Got it.

This is awkward. No one's saying anything. Why isn't she saying anything? People don't fly halfway around the world without something to say. Here's your fucking chance, now say it.

Why do I always have to be the one to prod things along?

"What did you want to apologize for?" Get it right, Naomi. For both of us.

"Everything." Vague. Better elaborate. It's important that you know. "I'm sorry for AJ. I'm sorry for not telling you. I'm sorry for pushing you away. I don't know why I did that."

Almost. At least you realize it was your fault. But almost isn't acceptable like it used to be. Not letting you slide, here. Not getting away with it, anymore.

It's just not good enough.

"You should go home." Hurt her. Knew it would. Wasn't actually my intention, but I can't care too much. She needs to hear it.

"You know I won't." You're convinced of that, now, but you'll change your mind. After we destroy what's left of each other, you'll get it.

That's all that's going to happen.

"But you should. There's nothing for you here, and you'll ruin your future if you stay too long." You know I'm right, it's written all over your face.

"I don't care." Liar. Good thing I know that, or you'd be in trouble. Romanticism doesn't look good on you, Naomi. Why would I want someone willing to throw their life away for me? What is there in that person to love?

Don't throw your drive away. It's your best feature.

This needs to end, now. Look at your watch, check the time. Pretend to be tired. Yawn. "It's getting late. I'm going to head home." Walk away, don't look back. Don't look at the damage you just caused by not dignifying what she said with an actual response.

Don't think about the damage cause by refused to look at it.

"You'll see me again." Never thought I wouldn't. You won't take the easy way out of this. "I'll miss you." Don't stop. Don't look back. Just a backhanded wave in acknowledgment.

There's no way out of this drama that's begun.

Long way home. Probably for the best. Still a little early to be calling it a night and the walk will do me good. Clear my head. Get her out of it. Wonder how long it'll take for her to leave. Wonder what new scars we'll have to make before that happens.

This was such a huge fucking mistake.

Why is Jazz still up? Was hoping she'd be asleep by now. Really don't want to deal with anyone right now.

"For what it's worth, I'm really sorry." Nod. I know. I know you'd never actually try to make things difficult for me. You just can't resist the urge to jump into things.

She must know I'm not in the mood, and need to be alone. The way she backs toward her room, looking worried, is slightly amusing.

It'll be okay, Jazz. It always is.

Glad she went on her own, though. Didn't want tonight to be the first night I kick her off of her own couch.

Plop down, kick your shoes off, and find the weed. Forget the grinder, the monotony of doing it by hand sounds wonderful. Feel it crumble between your fingertips, and fight back that knot forming in your stomach. You'll loosen it soon enough. Roll a spliff, make it tight.

Deep inhale, rest your head on the back of the couch. Hold it, hold it. Hold it until your head's nothing but a cloud of smoke and everything's forgotten. Don't think about the nightmare that's about to start. Don't think about the emotional roller coaster that you had no choice but to get on. Don't think about all of the ways the next few weeks are going to hurt, both directly and indirectly. Don't think about any of it. It doesn't exist. Not until the morning, anyway. Exhale slowly, feel it pull at your lungs; pull at your soul.

Exit performance mode.


	4. Teflon Part 1

**Author's Notes**

_*sings* I think this chapter's mostly filler… Ahem. So, looking at this chapter, I think it's kind of funny. You can definitely tell where the shift is, when I stopped writing whatever randomly came to mind, and I actually found some direction. The opening lyrics didn't give me too much to work with, and this story doesn't really hit its stride until the next song, so I'm mostly just trying to set characters and relationships up until I can get there. I promise, wading through all of this will be worth it. But that's also why this chapter's a bit shorter._

_Warnings: Lost and Delirious reference, Fable reference_

**Octahedron**

**Chapter Two: Teflon (Part 1)**

**By Persephone's Nautical Nun**

_Just don't know the laymen's terms  
To call the mess you bleed.  
Crawls beneath the surface;  
Sought blood through a family tree._

_The date's been changed  
With each new phase.  
I'm anxious bouts of nervous._

_What am I without the bruises?  
These switches won't come on.  
What do I do to lose it,  
Beneath this distress call?_

_Let the wheels burn, let the wheels burn;  
Stack the tires to the neck, with a body inside._

_Dear Katie_

_Life here just got a lot more complicated. I already didn't feel peaceful, but now everything's riled up._

No. Fuck that.

_Dear Katie_

_Naomi's found me. The one person I didn't want to find me found me, and now I don't know what to do._

Too lost. Too angsty. Don't worry so much.

_Dear Katie_

_Thank you so much for sending Naomi my way, you meddling bitch. And I know you did it, so stop looking shocked. Cleaning this one up is going to be interesting. Give my best to Jim Jam._

_Emsy_

Third time's the charm. She'll catch the joke, and she'll know I got her present. That's enough.

I have to go see Bryan. He'll make it all better. Always does. Wonder if he's working today. Guess I might as well check.

Can't relax. Can't just walk. This isn't my city, anymore. She's here, somewhere, lurking around every corner. I'm no longer safe in the anonymity. She did say I'd see her again.

Wonder when that'll be. Doesn't seem as pr-active as she once was.

Just calm down. Nothing you can do now, deal with it when it comes.

Don't laugh. Don't laugh. Oh, it's fucking hilarious, but don't laugh. Bryan selling shoes, and being good at it. Never fails to crack me up. Can tell he sees me, but he's got a customer.

I'll just go play with the baby shoes for a while.

Hmm. Why would an infant need pumps? Society's getting weirder and weirder.

Whoa. Surprise hug. Okay. "You looked like you needed a hug." Good old, Bryan. Maybe he'll be the one to not take Naomi's side. "I can take a break in a few minutes. Meet me around back."

Lean against the brick wall. Know I look like a fucking stereotype, but fuck if I care. Door bangs open; out pops Bryan, cigarette already dangling from his lip. Offers me one. Accept it. "I heard about Naomi. How you holding up?"

Shrug. What is there to say? Everything. Nothing. It doesn't matter. Let's not talk about it. "How come you never come out with us, anymore, Bryan?"

He shrugs, too. We're shruggy people. "It's not really the same, is it?"

"So? I was out with both Shane and AJ a few nights ago. Just because we've all separated doesn't mean we can't still make time for each other, does it?"

"I don't know, Ems. I think it might mean just that." Deep inhale. Heavy stare. There's something behind his words. "Think about it."

Don't have to. Not really. It's the whole reason I came here. Separated myself, don't want to make time for her.

Knew he'd understand.

But the situation with him is entirely different. Don't really have time to get into it with him, though. Break's almost over.

"We should hang out, sometime."

Oh, Bryan. I wonder if you know how contradictory you can sometimes be.

Bored, bored, bored. Gotta find something to do with my days. May even find a real job. Don't want to go back to the loft. Just as boring, there. City this size should not be this boring. What did I do before?

Oh, yeah. Planned parties and fucked around with Naomi.

That's what I need, a good old fashioned party. Or some acid. Everything's so far away on acid. I bet Shane could find some. Seems to be able to sniff the shit out.

Already feel better. Got a plan, and things to do, and none of it involves Naomi. Finding a place to trip is going to be the hard part. Make a deal out of it, or keep it small. Decisions, decisions. Should consult with Jazz and Jess. Jessica'd be able to find a place for sure.

Suppose whether or not we can find a large quantity for a good deal determines if we try to throw a big party, and the size determines the location, and the location determines decoration and entertainment. Nothing for it, I've got to talk to Shane first.

Let's see, where would he be? Probably on one of his streets. Good a place as any to start.

Except that when I find him, he's laughing with Naomi, like they're old friends. How did she even find him? I know he hasn't seen her before. "Are you fucking serious?" Fairly certain everyone knows how I'm going to feel about this. No point beating around the bush.

"Hello, Emily." Far cry from your attitude last night. Does the daylight help you somehow? Afraid you're going to have to do better than that, though. Your delivery was far too chipper to be believable.

Not playing this game. Can't make me. "Yeah, hi, what are you doing here?"

Your shrug's too nonchalant. Do you really think this is going to work? Try something else. "Catching up with Shane." Not technically a lie, since you didn't know I'd be seeing him today, but I know that's not all. Just because you didn't know you'd see me doesn't mean you didn't hope.

"Well, I was hoping to talk to my friend, but I guess it can wait. I'll leave you to it." Not sticking around for a back and forth. Can't stop her from showing up, but I don't have to stay.

"No, that's okay. I need to get going, anyway." Where in the world could you possibly have to be? "Picked up another shift at the diner." You're working? Interesting, though you shouldn't be waiting tables. Why are you stopping? Why are you so close to me? Why does it still feel like I'm trying to jump out of my skin? "You know, Emily, he is my friend, too, just like Bryan and AJ." AJ. Right. Do you fuck all your friends up against trees? "And that's okay."

No, it's not. It's my fault, though. Gone before I can open my mouth. Did she just win that one? Fitch 1, Campbell 1. God no, not that warm sensation in the pit of my stomach.

Thought I'd worked through this.

Only let it go down so far, that's it. Push it down and feel it mellow. Nothing's big or important but you. There's no more pain to be felt. Only so far down…

Found yourself.

Hadn't paid much attention to Shane until now. Can't read him. Usually can. Few steps towards him. "Look, she hasn't done anything to me, and we're friends. So don't –" Okay, so not the usual greeting, then.

Oh, Shane.

Wave him off, stop him talking. Nowhere near the point. "It's okay, Shane. But just because you want to hang out with her doesn't mean I have to."

Nod. Shrug. "Fair enough." Silence. "Hi, Emily, good to see you." Smile and a hug. That's more like it. "What brings you to my stand of wonders, today?"

Step closer to him, and lower your voice. Don't look suspicious, and can't be heard by passersby. "Please, please tell me you've heard tell of some LSD trickling around recently."

He's quiet, thinking, checking memory banks. Squints and licks his lips. Probably means it's a long shot. But long shots have worked before. "Let me talk to a couple people, and I'll get back to you."

Good enough for me. Good enough for now. "Thanks, man."

"What do you got in mind?"

Shrug. "Depends on how much you can find." Wait a minute. This could be it; the key to ending this here and now. Seems I've got the beginning of a plan floating around up there. "You know what? Better keep it moderate. You know, handful of close friends." Think that actually just made it easier for him.

Nothing like the feeling of action; of plans set in motion.

* * *

Strange safe feeling as I head towards the rehearsal space. Not sure what to make of it. Not really complaining.

First one here. Where is that key? Too many damn pockets. There. Something strangely satisfying about the click of a padlock. Slide open the big metal door, hear it ring around you.

I like this place.

Flick the mic amp on, stand before the stand, feet planted. Warm up, let's see. "Lost Carol." Soul, Ems, soul. Let yourself feel it. Go into something else; improve. Play with your voice, see what it can do. This is what it's like when I sing from my chest. Light, airy, agile. It's nice. It's weak. Can do so much more.

Slow it down, darken it up. Shift your center from your chest to your belly. Pull it up from deep within you. Full, strong, fill the room with sound. Nothing but my voice to fill it with. Close your eyes; move as your own voice carries you.

Don't notice Jess come in. Quick start when her guitar joins you. Recover, and alter just enough to play off what she's doing. Stay full, stay clear, but rise upwards. Physical rise with the melody, now swell. Jess shift, less cool, more drive. Shift with her, that's right.

There's Jazz in the doorway. Can tell we're being studied. Think she likes it, though; there goes the head. Not long before she's strapped her bass up and joins us. Brings a different tone to the mix; a different quality. Keeps us raw, bare somehow, and though we've added an instrument, it feels like we've been stripped down.

Ange shows up right on time, watches us. Smile, you're having a blast. Hook your finger towards her, sway to your own music. Join us, Ange, come on. You know you want to. Apathetic shrug and she's behind her set. Yes. Drive us forth on this musical adventure; unite us. This is why I do this. It's perfect, and we've reached a state of mind we all share.

That is until we fall out of sync and the whole thing crumbles. Was fun while it lasted, though.

"That was great guys, but we should get to work." Figures that would be the first thing out of Jazz's mouth. Jess makes a face, but none of us really mind. The work Jazz puts us through always shows.

Though it's going to be especially rough until we've got our next gig locked in. Always knowing when her next pay check's coming tends to keep her mellow.

Catch Jess as she's putting her guitar away. "Meeting AJ again?" Sometimes get the feeling they only hang out with each other.

"Of course. You want to come?" Jessica's your average friendly, chipper girl, which isn't necessarily a bad thing. Not sure a person exists that she can't get along with.

Follow her out and down the street, find AJ behind the wheel of her car in a parking lot under a bridge. "Emily! Will you be joining us in our travels this fair evening?"

Should not be this easy to catch his mood. Probably one of the reasons I could never be mad at him. Didn't mean anything by it. Not really. "Why, yes, I will be, and what will we be doing on this night?"

"We figured we'd head out to Oakvale, and partake in their green harvest." Goober. Slide into the car behind Jessica. Think that was AJ for going on a space cruise.

It was. Out in the middle of nowhere, and I can actually see the stars. Almost forgot what they looked like. Can see the panel's glow reflecting off all the smoke in the car. Fuck, I'm high. "Oh, yeah, hey Jess, I wanted to talk to you about something."

"What's up?"

"If I were to acquire some acid, do you know where we could trip?"

"Uh-oh. Someone's bored." That's right, AJ. Know me too well. "How big we talking?"

Shake head, hit the blunt. "Not big at all." Exhale. "I'm thinking just us, you know?" He knows. He knows I mean more than just the people in this car.

Think he needs to clarify, anyway. "Naomi?"

Don't catch his eye. Focus on Jess as you pass the blunt. "Sure, why not?" Shrug, nonchalant. Don't give an inkling about your ulterior motives. None of his business.

"Yeah, we could just use my place." Jess has completely missed the interrogation, and now the moment's past.

"You sure it's big enough?"

"Oh, yeah. We'll have room to explore."

"You know, Emily, you're handling the Naomi situation pretty well. I'm proud of you." Learn when to stop, AJ. I see the accusation behind your eyes, and you of all people should know to stay out of it.

"Well, I do what I can." Feign cheerfulness. Lean back in the seat, breathe in the smoke laced air, nice and slow. Stare out the windows and try to see something, anything, within the blackness.

Shouldn't come as a surprise to find nothing there.


	5. Teflon Part 2

**Author's Notes**

_I like this chapter. I like this chapter a lot. I feel like both the story and I are hitting our strides, and I'm really excited about what I have in store for you over the next several chapters. Can't say it's going to be rainbows and puppies, but it's definitely going to be something to read. And now, for the true start of Octahedron, you know, after I got through all that exposition bullcrap._

_Warnings: absurdity, Tori line_

**Octahedron**

**Chapter Two: Teflon (Part 2)**

**By Persephone's Nautical Nun**

_Frames of infrared  
Keep scrolling into focus.  
Scarabs claim the busy signal  
With the habits that you noticed._

_The date's been changed  
With each new phase.  
I'm anxious bouts of nervous._

_What am I without the bruises?  
These switches won't come on.  
What do I do to lose it,  
Beneath this distress call?_

_Let the wheels burn, let the wheels burn;  
Stack the tires to the neck, with a body inside._

People still live in houses, occasionally. Hadn't actually seen any since I've been here, but it turns out that Jess lives in one. Fairly decent one at that. Two bedrooms, perfect size for eight or nine people to enjoy for a few hours.

"You mind if I put up a few strings of fairy lights, here and there?" Don't want to do anything too extravagant or intrusive. Lights are cool to look at, and easy.

"Yeah, that'd be fine." Nod. Walk through the dining room, into the kitchen. Love the plethora of identical magnets on her refrigerator. Hmm, this has potential. Make a few stacks on the door, one magnet on top of the other. Some one is bound to find that entertaining.

"Are there any areas you'd like to keep off limits?"

"Is it possible to have off limit areas in a house full of people on LSD?"

"Not really." Move to the master bedroom; get a feel for the size. "Anything of sentimental value you might want to move beforehand. Curiosity sometimes leads to clumsy."

"Right. That makes sense."

Head back out to the living room. "How are we fixed for sound?"

"I've only got the system in here." Take a gander. Nod. Gonna have to get something smaller for the two bedrooms, but it's doable.

Take the blunt AJ's been rolling. Light it. "I assume you don't mind if I scrub the place first."

She laughs. "Of course not. Do what you need to."

It's great when things start falling into place. I just hope Shane can come through.

* * *

Bang, bang, bang!

I'm sleeping.

Bang, bang, bang!

I'm still sleeping.

Bang, bang, bang!

Not sleeping. Who the fuck is that? What time is it?

Bang, bang, bang!

Okay. I'm fucking coming. Throw the blanket off and pad over to the door. Can hear Jazz's door creak open as she joins me.

Bang, bang, ba-

I have never seen this Jesus looking fucker in my life. Seems to feel at home, though, since he pushes his way past us and inside. Jazz is going to explode, but he opens his mouth first. "Emily?" Nod. "Hi, I'm Lee." Seems way too overexcited, but I shake hands anyway. "Shane sent me."

Stop glaring at me, Jazz. I'm well aware this is inappropriate, but this isn't my fault. I didn't tell him to show up at three in the morning. Watch him move to the table and empty his pockets, tin foil tubes rolling along the wood. "So when's the party?"

Blink. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Oh." Gesture to the table. "Fifty hits of acid, free of charge. I just want to come to the party."

"Um, yeah, okay. We don't know yet. Shane'll let you know."

The guy's got an infectious smile. "Okay, cool. Enjoy the rest of your night."

Stare at Jazz as he leaves. Did that really just happen? Need someone else to confirm that. "Yeah, that really just happened." That, right there, is why I live with Jazz. Shake head, move to the table. Seems we've got Sweet Tarts. Into the freezer they go.

Glad that's taken care of. Only thing to concern myself now with is making sure Naomi shows up.

This is going to be delicate.

* * *

Naomi. Naomi, wherefore art thou, Naomi? And why the hell am I quoting Shakespeare?

Alright, let's go over what we know. She found Shane, which means she'll probably find everyone else, though I think she'll probably confine herself to Bryan and AJ. She and Bryan always had a bit of tension, so checking with AJ's probably my best bet. Work from there.

What did he say he was doing these days? Working for the man, waiting tables. Something like that. Yeah, that's right. That Italian hole in the wall.

And neither AJ nor Naomi is here. Okay, what else do we know? She works at a diner. Too vague. Andrew's been helping her. That's my key. How to find Andrew? Jess knows him. Kind of.

Jazz is smart. Should always just start at Jessica from now on.

To the campus, I go. Always feels weird to go here, though I'm not sure why. Ignore the once overs from the frat boys and make your way to the library. Do not pass go; do not collect two hundred dollars. And sure enough, there she is, ear buds in and feet propped up. How does she keep this job?

Walk around the side of the desk; yank an ear bud out and round the corner to the front. Laugh as she looks where you used to be. "Hey, Emily, what can I do for you?" You know I can't let you check out a book unless you're a member of the student body."

"Yeah, I know." Tried that one before. One of my more humorous adventures, actually. "I was actually wondering if I could use your people database."

Blink. "What?" Sigh. Okay.

"You know your whole 'I know everybody' thing?" Clarity. There we go. Avoid geeky references in the future. "What do you know about Andrew?"

Shrug. "Not much. We were both peripherals to roommates. Kind of a metal head, huge nerd. Think he's majoring in engineering or something like that."

"So if I wanted to find him…"

"I'd troll the science building."

Slap the desk in celebration. "Thanks, Jess, that's what I needed."

"Anytime." But I'm already halfway out the door.

Why is the science building always in some obscure corner of the campus? Are they trying to segregate those too smart to function in general society? Halls are empty. Not surprising. Late afternoon, only a few classes in session. Catch sight of his hair in the second classroom, though. Score. Have to wait until he gets out, though. Whenever that might be.

Sit on a bench, lean my head back against the wall; listen to the low hum of the air conditioning. Should have brought something to do. Would have if I had known this is where I'd end up. Having just my thoughts to entertain myself with doesn't sound good at all. Could probably sit in on one of these classes. Don't want to disrupt anything.

How long has it been? An hour? Something like that. Maybe they'll be getting out soon. Or a break. Supposedly these evening classes can go for hours at a time.

Start as people start filing out of the room. Try not to look too conspicuous. Fail miserably. Where is he? Know for a fact I saw him. Doesn't he realize people are waiting on him?

Traffic slows, thins, stops completely. Two voices echo in the room, discussing nothing that seems even remotely interesting. Seriously? You're that guy; the one who actually discusses the lecture with the professor? Really?

No wonder you're friends with Naomi.

There you are. Knew you'd have to come out sooner or later. Surprised to see me? Ew, really don't like the way the old guy nudges him before waddling off at the sight of me. Feel violated. "What do you want?" Gee, that was nice. What happened to aiding love and all that nonsense?

Whatever. This isn't difficult. Turn on that Fitch charm.

Smile; big, and bright, and sincere. Eyes even crinkle some. See? I'm harmless. "I'm actually looking for Naomi." Throw him off guard with the truth. Works every time. "Thought you might be able to help me."

"Why?" Skeptical, huh? Why? Last time I saw you, you were talking about wanting to help us get back together. Why are you willing to be an obstacle?

Can't exactly ask you out right, though. Okay, we'll play, I'll let you lead. Think I'll stick with honesty. Better to keep things simple, at this point. "I want to invite her to a part we're having." Pause, just a beat. "Actually." Head tilt. "Why don't you come, too?" Put you both at ease and your presence is irrelevant.

Cracked. I see it. It's just so easy. "I don't know. You seemed really angry about the whole situation." Oh, come on. Just give in, you know you want to.

Take a step closer, hold his gaze. "I was just trying to deal with the shock, that's all." Uh-oh, weight shift. Came on too strong. Lower your gaze, fake sigh.

That's it. That's all it takes. Don't smile as his resolve crumbles and he checks his watch. "She works at that little diner around the corner; you know which one I'm talking about?" Nod. "Well, she doesn't get off for another hour or so."

"Thanks!" Quick hug. Release him before he can right himself and return it. Flounce off before he has a chance to figure out what just happened.

Looks like you're not the only clever one, Naomi. I can find you, too.

* * *

Breathe. Watch. Don't go in, yet. To the tables, check on customers. Back to the window. Never stands still too long. Look, she remembered what that woman was drinking. She's good at this. That's unsurprising. Shut up, stomach. No reason for you to react like this. Remember, this is going to be simple. She's in no position to refuse you.

Then again, is that really what I'm afraid of? Don't pretend you didn't notice the nagging 'Is this the right thing to do?' question in the back of your mind. We don't lie here, especially not to ourselves.

Shake it off. Wait for her to go back to the window, and head inside, slip into a booth by the door. Didn't go unnoticed. Must be better at this than I thought. Wish it didn't affect me like this. Don't have to wait long at all before she's standing in front of me, asking me what I'd like, challenging smirk unwavering.

That's weird. My own smile feels genuine. Alright, let's play. Guess I did start it. This time. "Don't you need to write it down?"

Eye twinkle. Okay, so maybe I missed you. Just a little bit. Doesn't change anything. "You're one person. Try me."

Clear throat. It's not like you're here for a three course meal. "Yeah, can I get a grilled cheese and some coffee?"

"I think I can handle that."

Sit back, watch her make her way to the window, stopping and checking on a few tables. Why are you so cheerful? What is going on here? Thought I knew; thought it was my doing, so why do you look so confident? Doesn't feel like an act.

Not that I'm complaining, mind you.

Get the coffee immediately, but it's only a few minutes before my sandwich is in front of me. Not overly crowded in here, but busy enough to keep her attention away from me. Suits me just fine. I like to watch her; the way she surveys the room as she moves across it, the way her muscles shift as she carries a tray to a large table. Doesn't seem like she's working for the customers, but rather we're all tiny parts in a complicated orchestra she's conducting.

Focus, Fitch. Don't fall back into old habits. Got a job to do. Unfortunately one that's going to have to wait until she gets off. Eh, only fifteen minutes from now. Order another cup of coffee; savor the bitter heat on your tongue.

Few minutes to go. Pull money from your pocket, setting what's needed on the table. Few bucks tip. Nothing more or less than I'd give anyone else. Don't want to offend. Push through the door and out into the street. She's behind me almost instantly, without nametag or apron. "Hey." Take what's in her hand; a few bills. "I don't want your money."

Shove it in your pocket without looking at it. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude," but she's shaking her head, and I don't think she's hearing me.

"No, it's – it's fine." Calm down, Naomi. There you go, that's better. "I just don't want yours. I'm not above it, I just can't. Not from you." I understand. Not sure you do. Can't forget the things you never said. We have to start saying them.

"You don't want to accept my tip because you don't like how impersonal it feels." You can't hide it, Naomi, no matter how hard you try. Though you do give it a good shot.

"Yeah." Finally. Progress. Try it yourself, next time. "Look, could you give me a second? I need to clock out."

Nod pointlessly. She's already back inside. Lean against the wall and breathe. Why doesn't it feel foreign anymore? Don't want this to be familiar. She doesn't make me wait. How did we get to be walking down the street?

We're quiet. Glad she hasn't asked me what I'm doing here. Surely, she already knows. Though, that means she knows I have something specific, so she's waiting for it. Right. Just come out with it. Remember why she's here. This is easy. "You're really good at that." Point back to her place of employment.

Shrug. "It's easy." She catches my eye, and I know she's waiting for the purpose of my visit.

"So, we're having a party this weekend at Jess's house. You should come." Can't read that smile. There's more than just pleasure at the invitation. It's knowing, and almost villainous, and I immediately start looking for the miscalculation. Simply can't find it.

"Yeah, I'd like that." Silence. Maybe I should leave. Why don't I leave? I got what I wanted. "So, your voice has really developed." Conversation grasping. She feels as awkward as I do. Wonder if we're holding onto it on purpose. Wonder what would happen if we let it go.

"Yeah, Jazz really knows what she's talking about. She's helped a lot." And here I go again. Playing with her. Why bother?

Hands in her pockets. She doesn't quite know what to say. Nod. "She seems… territorial."

Laugh. Real one, too, which is surprising. Nice. "Jazz is just… protective and nosy. Which makes for a really interesting combination."

"I think she's got a thing for you."

"What? No way." The thought really had never crossed my mind. "Jazz is as straight as they come. Really."

"I believe you." Hands go up in surrender, and I never wanted to see that. Not on her. This is why we can't let go of the awkward. "You know her better than I do." The Naomi I left would have supported herself; cited examples backing up her theory.

This Naomi's just boring.

Which somehow steels my resolve.

"Anyway, I'd better get going to rehearsal." There's no rehearsal tonight. "See you this weekend." Ignore her disappointed expression as she tells you goodbye. You've got your own disappointments to deal with.

Walk, slow and steady. Round the corner and speed up. Faster, faster. To a jog, and then to a run. Impact shooting up your calves, and your heart deafening in your ears. Sprint and force air down into your lungs, until even that hurts.

I don't actually know how that went. And I can't take the not knowing.


	6. Teflon Part 3

**Author's Notes**

_This was amazingly fun to write (as most of my party scenes tend to be), even though there's not a whole lot of good going on. And if this doesn't stir up some interest, I'm not entirely sure what will. Anyway, I'll be going out of town week after next, and while I'm hoping to get another chapter out to you before then, don't expect an update while I'm gone. I am, however, hoping to get a lot of wonderful writing done._

_Warnings: serious drug use, evil!Emily, Natalie Imbruglia line_

**Octahedron**

**Chapter Two: Teflon (Part 3)**

**By Persephone's Nautical Nun**

_Take in all the hostages  
Into the Oval Office.  
Draw the curtains, part their hair  
And pull the trigger softly._

_If they have become empty,  
Then I'll just take you with me.  
One driver in your motorcade  
Is all it takes, is all it takes._

_Selling graves in Teflon veins  
Is all it takes, is all it takes._

_What am I without the bruises?_

_These switches won't come on.  
What do I do to lose it,  
Beneath this distress call?_

_Let the wheels burn, let the wheels burn;  
Stack the tires to the neck with a body inside._

Alright. Blue and green fairy lights in the main area, accompanied with some trip hop. Pulled an amp and Jazz's mp3 player in the master bedroom, with black lights and dubstep. Got my own iPod and docking station in the spare room, with warm tapestries, red lights, and soft indie. Especially like the lamp that throws shadows on the ceiling. Definitely the safe room, this one.

This is it. This is the site.

Head back towards the kitchen; admire your handiwork. Organize the Sweet Tarts yet again. Enough here to fuck everyone up; five each. Might as well do it big. Back to the living room; laugh at Lee drinking a beer by himself on the couch. Who are we waiting on? Ange, Andrew, and Naomi, I think. Fully expecting Andrew and Naomi to show up at the same time.

And of course they do. Alright, here we go. Nothing strange about this; just a group of my closest friends having a party. Perfectly fucking natural. Secure your friendly smile, and greet then. Him first, make her wait. See? You're not special. Step aside, and let them in. Suggest they get familiar with the place and explain that we're waiting on Ange. Always fashionably late, that one.

Quick eye contact, don't hold it. Start up a conversation with Bryan. Careful not to be too obvious. Watch her from the corner of your eye; the small smile that pulls at one corner of her mouth. They move together. Don't think too much of it; probably just because he doesn't know anybody. Hell, even Naomi's more in the know. That'll change.

Finally! Ange is here. Start gently herding everyone towards the kitchen. Not your house, but be a good hostess anyway. Lock the doors and windows; explain that no one leaves until dawn. Candy's been divided already, and everyone chooses a stack. Let the games begin.

Waiting for it to kick in is always the interesting part. Boring, in relation to what's to come. Pull out your glow sticks and go to Jess's room. Might as well put on a show. A few follow me. Naomi doesn't. We'll catch up later.

Move to the center of the room; plant your feet and close your eyes. Shake your hips and feel the material of your trousers against your legs. Wore the big ones specifically for this. Feel that thumpathumpa through the floor and find the heartbeat of the music. Start to move to it; hands and arms first, quick arcs and growing spirals. Keep it small, keep it simple, keep it confined. Feet now, even simpler. Kick out and sway back, let the pants do the work for you.

There it is, the familiar sensation of something washing over me. Trip's just started. Open your eyes and watch your tracers. Experiment. God, they're fucking cool. Wonder what else they can do. Utilize all the space around my body. It's so pretty, and it's so fun, and I think I could do this all night.

But of course I can't. Dramatic fall; curve the spine and watch the head. Laugh at the horrified gasps from the others in the room. Stand up; toss the glow sticks to Andrew. The kid seems enthralled. Tired of this room, now. What else is there?

Step over, who is that? Jazz. Step over Jazz, find the doorknob, and step through the portal to another dimension. Sure is bright in the kitchen. Only light is above the stove. How is this possible? Who is that? Lee? Did you get snared by my magnet trap? "Shane! Look at these magnets. They're all 3D." Haha. Yeah, that's cool, but I can show you guys something better.

"Hey, look at this." Peel one magnet from the top of the stack. Watch his eyes widen, and his hand go up to his face. Think I just rocked his world.

"It's still there!" Frantic pointing at the refrigerator. "You took it off, but it's still there!"

Oh, Shane's so very confused. From Lee, to me, to the door and back again. Finally reaches a decision and points to me. "You're weird." Haha. Sure, Shane. Sure I am. We all are, a little bit. Especially tonight.

I'm going to leave you boys to figure out the magnets all by yourselves, for there are colors and light in that room over there, and I want to go investigate.

What is this that I'm looking at here? AJ? Jessica? Both of them? As one mass of living tissue? Whatever, you don't need to think about it. Hard wood looks comfortable. Mm, it's cool to the touch. Roll over and align your back. Look up at the criss-crossing blue and green lights, and sacrifice them in order to summon a jellyfish. Play with it, dance with it across the ceiling. Laugh and laugh, because you've never had more fun in your life.

"Emily." Jessica? Is that you? Do you need rescuing from the science experiment? "Emily, come lay on the rug with us."

That sounds like it would take effort. Fuck it; let's find out what's so amazing about th- Oh, holy hell. That's the best thing I've ever felt in my whole life. I just want to rub my face in it. So glad I cleaned this place top to bottom earlier.

"AJ's hair is so soft, feel it." Eh, kinda don't wanna. Kinda have to anyway, lest we have an emergency. Very nice. It's hair. On this note, I really should take my leave.

Catch sight of her on my way to the bathroom. Replaced Shane and Lee in front of the refrigerator. Why are you looking at the floor? Oh. Looks like they've removed all of the magnets and dropped them on the floor. "What do you think happened here?"

Shrug. "I think people on LSD happened here." Take an interest. It's not time yet, but I should anyway. "How are you feeling?"

"Good." Why do you sound so surprised by that? "Your friend, Ange, is really interesting. I was talking to her earlier." Figures she'd gravitate to the one I still don't know very well. What does that mean? And why is Ange willing to talk to someone she just met, but can't be bothered to say more than two words to me at any given time?

Nod. "I'm glad you're having fun." Get out of here. Just get out of here. "Look, I've got to go to the bathroom, we'll catch up later."

"You actually mean that?" What? What are you talking about? "I mean, you've been avoiding me all night." Whoa. Okay, get out of here faster. Get out of my head.

Focus through the haze, Fitch. Smile, disarm her. "It's fine. We'll hang later." Turn and run, er, stumble. Get a hold of yourself; you've got a job to do. What's that sound? Is someone in the shower? There sure as hell is. Can make out flesh through the warped glass.

Cover your eyes. Not like you can see anything, but cover your eyes, anyway. "Bryan, um, are you jerking off?"

"He so is." Oh, shit. Hadn't noticed Ange sitting on the toilet. Why are you here? What the fuck is going on? You know what? I take that back, I don't want to know. Turn your back to it, and find yourself in the mirror. Don't get lost in it, don't get lost in it. You can do this. Splash your face with water as Bryan pushes himself over the edge. Yeah, it's time to get out of here.

I see her enter the spare room as I exit the bathroom. Eyes find Jazz in the corner immediately. Are you ready? If we're going to back out, we need to do it now. Fuck it, I've come this far. Now or never. Imperceptible nod, slight head jerk towards the door. Let's get this over with.

Creep over to where she's lying in a mass of blankets; stay on the balls of your feet. Long, wide strides; keep the pants from rustling too much. Plop down sideways behind her; dig out the tin with the weed and skins from your pocket and start rolling a spliff. Has she even noticed you, yet?

"These lights aren't blue." Evidently she has. Pretty sure she hasn't noticed Jazz sitting silently by the door. "I know they're not blue. But they look blue."

Finish the spliff and move so we're lying next to each other. "You're right, they're red. But that's okay; I sometimes see green as purple."

"Thanks for inviting me." That came out of nowhere. Your eyes should not be heavy for someone on drugs. Then again, I know what the combination of LSD and me means to you, though you've never had to tell me.

What do you say to that? What doesn't sound contrived? Light the spliff, hand it to her. Don't meet her eye, and don't register the trust in them. That's the thing about acid; it turns you into a little kid. I could tell her we've been transported to the moon, and she'd believe me. But what I have planned is so much worse.

We're quiet, and I'm afraid of slipping back into old familiarity. Look at her shoulder, the way it curves into her arm. Can barely remember what her skin feels like; feel my fingers twitch to find out. Don't get carried away here. All sorts of memories are about to come rushing back, and you've got to make sure you don't get washed away in the torrent. Hold onto yourself, and what it is you've decided to do.

Big, deep inhale from the spliff, enough for two people. Ignore the question behind her eyes, and bring your lips together. Crack, like a jolt of electricity to my heart. I remember, now. Come on, Naomi, open your mouth, there we go. God, her breath; no, don't inhale, give her yours. Slowly, slowly, feel her breathe you in. Steady, don't get carried away. This wasn't the point.

Her eyes are dark. Don't look at them. Don't listen to the impulses your body's screaming. That was a pretty good hit if the smoke she's exhaling is any indication. Oh, that old Naomi smile. I thought it had died long ago.

You know, I used to dream about you grabbing me and kissing me like this. It's why I forget myself and respond. But this isn't then, and your tongue reminds me that this is not the eventuality. Last chance to back out, Ems. You could forget the whole thing, give in and go back to square one.

What am I saying? Of course I can't. I do the meanest thing I can think of.

Set the confusion in your face before pulling away. Watch as her eyes flicker to mirror your own, and prepare to deal the series of blows you've laid out. "What are you doing?"

That's right. It doesn't register, it doesn't compute. I've given you every reason to think that kissing me is okay, and now your drug-addled brain can't figure out what to do with this new piece. Normally, this would just annoy you, but I know that in the state you're in, it's devastating. And it's only going to get worse.

Don't fall into it, Ems. Don't let her stuttered explanation break your heart. It's just the acid, and it's not going to win. No reason her face should be hurting you right now. Push it aside, it's not real, any of it. It's been set up brilliantly, but now you have to finish it. End it, before this ends the both of you.

Smile. Get it right. Keep it small, keep it sad. Hand her the spliff and ease onto my feet. Smooth movements, let a hand linger. Cross the room, lead with your hips. Pull Jazz to her feet and offer a last glance at Naomi. Make sure she's watching. God, this is so fucking obvious.

Too late, now. Lean forward, it's got to be you, and cover Jazz's mouth with yours. It feels strange not to have to look up. She's too small, too angular, and I have to work to keep my brow from furrowing. It's only Jazz, you can do this. Go farther than Naomi; poke your tongue out and between her lips. She tries to help by wrapping her arms around me, but it's only making the pit sink deeper into my stomach. I can't do this much longer. The point's been made, and this is just wrong.

Naomi's forgotten, actually, and I tear away from Jazz because I have to. But then I do remember her. Where is she? How is she? Do I really want to see my handiwork? Do I really have a choice?

I'm sorry, Naomi. I just, you have to understand. This was a mistake. Go home. I'm sorry. God, I didn't want all of the light to leave you. I'm sorry your trip has taken a turn for the worse. What else was I supposed to do? Here, have a spliff, it's the least I could do. I know, I'm an asshole. Are you okay over there? Haven't moved much, but I guess the fact that you're smoking is a good sign. I'm going to be over here, across the room, okay? I'm not going anywhere. Oh, I know you don't want me around, but I can't leave you in the state you're in, or you might not be here in the morning.

Truth is, I might not be either.

But, look, it's over, now, okay? It's all over, because you can't be here. So you can go home now, and get back to your life, and you won't have me to distract you.

Staring, just staring at teach other. Look at you; I couldn't reach you if I tried. Don't think anyone could reach me either. Here, let me roll you another spliff, and roll it across the floor. God, where are my glow sticks? Those would be useful right about now. Thought I still had a few of those little ones on me somewhere. Must cut down on the number of pockets I wear. Aha! Found them. Crack two, and focus on the light; let it ward off the darkness. Poor Naomi. She must be defenseless over there. Here, have a light. Have my light. It's the only thing I can offer you now.

Even if it looks like you don't want it by the tiny lights rolling back to me across the floor. Okay, I guess you're right. Little silly for me to try to be protecting you now, huh?

Even as the dawn breaks, we sit silently in opposite corners. Calm some in the final stages of coming down. The events of last night seem so far away, even though we haven't moved. My glow sticks are dimming. Try not to jump out of your skin when Andrew comes in, looking for Naomi. Don't look at him as he takes in the scene we've made, or lack thereof. Put those thoughts away, they're much too loud.

I'm glad he's here for her. Glad she doesn't have to deal with the aftermath alone. Pick yourself up, and dust yourself off. Never noticed when Jazz left. Didn't really care. No one around to help me with the aftermath. Don't really need it anyway.

I miss Katie.


	7. Halo of Nembutals Part 1

**Author's Notes**

_So, I know I promised you an update before I left town for spring break, and I didn't come through, so I would like to apologize dearly for that. The vacation was greatly needed, and I even discovered that I have a place to live once I move out there. That's always good. And now I've come back all reenergized, and lively and writing up a storm. So, here you go._

**Octahedron**

**Chapter 3: Halo of Nembutals (Part 1)**

**By Persephone's Nautical Nun**

_When the earth lets you go,  
When the verdict is vermin,  
By the fork in my tongue,  
When you run out of sermon._

_When sooner or later  
Is still not enough,  
What a foul little temptress  
Your daughter's become._

_Deviate by all means in name,  
Because we all crawl in quicksand the same._

It's too bright out here, too warm. Had grown used to it, but acid makes the next day pretty. Usually it's cool, but that's one side effect I could do without. Let's see, getting home. Would take a really long time on foot, but the bus doesn't sound appealing. Then again, I'm fucking exhausted. Should have kept up with Jazz and left with her. Would have been far less complicated.

Would have killed Naomi, though, and that's a bit much.

Fuck, bus it is. Going to regret that later, I'm sure. Where's the nearest bus stop? Thought I saw one a few blocks over. Might as well go ahead and look. Not like I have anything to be late for, or something to lose. Not anymore.

Come on, legs, work with me here. Can't have you so rubbery, it makes walking strange. Aha, I was right. There is a bus stop over here. Let's see, where will you take me? Not quite home, but close enough. Could hoof it from there if I don't want to hop another bus.

Which I'm sure I won't.

Fag time. Lean your head back on the bench, legs stretched in front of you, and watch the smoke curl up and dissipate in the sky. So that's it, then. The nightmare's finally over. Naomi's going to leave, and I can get on with my life. Whatever that means. There's no way she'll forgive me for last night, and I know it fucked her up. So she'll go back home, right? This was better for everyone.

Alright, bus is here. Fuck it, let's do it. Maybe it won't be too bad since it's so early. Probably wishful thinking. Yup, sure is. This is just as dirty and smelly as every other bus in this city. At least it doesn't have quite so many characters overcrowding it. Hell, there are a few people who look like they might actually be going to work. Eyes to yourself, don't draw any unwanted attention, and try to find a seat as far away from everyone else as humanly possible. Keep your eyes on the screen at the front indicating the next stop. Keep a look out for yours.

Why? Why do the people who look like they've never bathed look at me like they're superior? Never understood this. Whatever, I'm just glad to be off that thing. Not getting back on another bus. Ever. I don't even care that home's still a few miles away. Fuck it.

Legs are jelly. Come on, just a few more steps, you can make it. Won't mention the stairs that are still waiting. I'm gonna crash, or collapse, or possibly both. Gotta lean against the door while opening it before falling through it after getting it unlocked.

Move, Jazz. Move. I'm laying there, and I don't care if you're there or not. Mmm, couch. Even the arm rest is comfy. Wish I could stretch out, though. Jazz, why haven't you moved? "What's up?"

The string of random sounds coming out of your mouth is unintelligible. Something's up, because I've never seen this before. Not sure either of us is in a state to deal with it right now. I know I'm not, and if you're this freaked out, then neither are you. "Look, I really just want to sleep. Can we talk later?"

Later. Later, later, later. When did that happen? Didn't used to be that way.

Jazz seems relieved, though, so I guess it's okay. Can feel her weight shift as she gets up and leaves. Grab the blanket from the back of the couch, and stretch out, bury your face in the blanket and block out the light. Please, sleep, just come. I don't care how restless.

* * *

Flashes. Emptiness with just flashes. Flashes of her, getting longer. A hand, shoulder, the corner of her mouth until she's finally standing in front of me. Just me, her, and the nothingness. Guess I can't distract myself with anything else.

I can't hear you. Why can't I hear you? You're screaming at me, and I just can't hear you. Move closer, maybe that's what's wrong. But no matter how many steps I take, we don't get any closer. Please, come to me. I can't come to you. Come to me and tell me what you're trying to say.

Yes! Maybe there is hope. That's right, come closer, just a little more. Why are you moving so slowly? Don't you know there's no time? At least you've stopped screaming.

Whoa. Okay. Certainly didn't expect you to get that close. Your breath is too warm on my ear. It burns. Why can't I move? Why can't I run? Why can't I grab you and never let go? "Because you killed me." What? I didn't- I just- God, what's happening? What's happening to you? You're fading, disintegrating, and I just wish I could hold you and keep it from happening; keep you whole.

But I can't.

Fuck! Holy shit, okay, calm down. Just a dream. A really fucked up dream, but a dream nonetheless. We'll blame it on the acid. What time is it? Dark out. Probably early night. Look at that. 7:30.

"Good morning." Oh, hell. Hey, Jazz. Didn't notice you over there. "You should have stayed asleep a few more minutes. I was going to wake you up with this joint."

Feel the dream fade into the background and sit up. "That's very nice of you." Blink. Wake up. Probably best I woke up when I did, because if I smoked immediately after waking up, I'd be right back down. Which is something I very decidedly don't want.

Take the spliff from her and light it up. Wait for a good head change before asking her about earlier. "So what did you want to talk about this morning?"

Mood shift. Interesting. Pause for the cause. Or maybe she's just stalling. "Well, I think we should talk about what happened last night." The break definitely did her good. Closer to her old self. No waver in tone at all.

But, seriously, what? Why would we have to talk about last night? We talked about it before it ever happened. Unless… No. "What is there to talk about? It was just a ploy to get rid of Naomi. The end."

"NO, right, I was just making sure." Her voice is too strong. "Just making sure you weren't swayed afterwards." Hell. Okay, Jazz, sure. We'll go with that, if that's really what you want.

"No worries. I still am not attracted to you."

There. Awkward conversation avoided. Or over. I'm not sure which. Fuck, I'm hungry. Let's see what we have in the kitchen. Beer and condiments. Amazing. When did we start living like boys? Gonna have to go out. Already know where. Tell yourself it has nothing to do with Naomi; that you were just impressed the last time you were there. With the food, not the service.

Though the service was, indeed, impressive.

Not the point. Not lying, though. The food was good, as far as grilled cheese goes. Don't notice her as you slip in and slide into a booth. Must have wasted no time in quitting. Bet she's packing her bags now, and on a plane tomorrow. Not sure how I feel about that.

Nonsense, it's for the best. Get over it.

Except that now she's standing in front of me, asking to take my order like I'm a fucking stranger. But her smile is too smug, and her eyes are full of mockery. What's this, then? Two can play that game. Don't take your eyes off the menu as you indifferently order a simple cheeseburger.

"That red meat's going to bite you in the ass one of these days." Aha! So you do know me. But you're across the diner before I can respond.

What's going on here? She seems fine, and that's exactly what she shouldn't be. She should be anything but fine. She should be catatonic, or hysterical, or broken; hell, I'd even take really fucking pissed off. This is just unprecedented.

Look at her. She's just as in control as she was the last time I was here. Her work hasn't suffered at all. Nothing has. And if anything, there's an extra fucking pep to her step; a little extra speed as she delivers orders, and a slightly wider smile as kind old men harmlessly flirt with her.

And of course my food is in front of me in practically no time at all. Not surprising. What's surprising is Naomi sliding in the booth across from me without her apron. "It's break time." Guess I must look confused.

Well, this is sufficiently awkward. Didn't plan on actually getting to talk to her. What did I want to say? Why am I here, anyway? Oh, right. Was hungry. Not so much anymore.

"Why are you here, Emily?" Never heard you voice like that before; both soft and stable at the same time. It's usually one or the other. But not now. Not this time. What am I missing, here?

Come on, Fitch, stay in control. She's had quite enough of it. Steel yourself, do it quickly, don't let her see. Shrug. Nostalgic face. "I guess I came to say goodbye."

"Are you going somewhere?" The question implies sarcasm, rather than actually having any, and I can tell she's controlling herself.

And now I realize that I have truly fucked up here. Still don't know how.

Keep it together. Don't give in. You're not rattled this easily. "No, I just figured that after last night, you'd want to get back home."

Her smile is both amused, and sympathetic, and it makes my stomach turn. "Things aren't always what they seem, Ems." What does that mean? Let's stop talking in riddles and get to the point. "Did you really think I wasn't prepared?"

"Prepared for what?"

Oh, don't give me exasperated Naomi sigh. Just tell me what the fuck is going on. "Look, you did exactly what I thought you would." Not following. "Every time you're upset with me, you throw a party, and you usually make out with someone in front of me. In fact, there's only one time that you didn't, and I'm pretty sure that's just because we were together, and that means something to you. Or at least it did."

Could say a lot of things right now. Could claim the pattern isn't true; try to deny the possibility that you might have seen something in me that I've yet to notice. But we're not lying to ourselves, here. "The last one had nothing to do with you. I was broke. Remember?"

And you laugh? "Yeah, I remember. I was there. Maybe you should take a closer look at what was going on, because things weren't right. I just don't know why."

"You're making things up, Naomi." But are you? Are you really?

"Maybe." Quick glance at that gaudy man watch. "Look, I've got to get back to work. Can you come back around nine?"

"Actually, I've got rehearsal tonight." Not even lying this time.

"Okay, well maybe I can swing by there when I get off…"

No! You're not going there. You're not welcome there. That place is special, and mine and you can't have it. Learned the hard way what happens when I invite you into my secret places. Let's do us both a favor, and keep you away from them. "Why don't I just meet you somewhere? The campus, maybe?" Seems to be the center of your and Andrew's hub.

"Um, okay." Yeah, I know you're confused. Thanks for not pushing it, though. "When do you get finished?"

Shrug. It really just depends. "We're usually finished around midnight. It'll be no later, anyway."

"Fuck, you're killing me." Sorry. I know I keep fucked up hours. "But we do need to talk." Don't look at me like I'm going to argue. You're not dealing with yourself, here. "So, what, courtyard fountain around midnight thirty? Does that give you enough time to get from wherever you're coming from?" Nod. Shouldn't be a problem. "See you later, Ems." She's quiet, and then she's gone.

I'm trying not to think that this is it, the showdown that's been coming for the past two weeks. Because I've thought that before. And I was very apparently wrong.

Regardless, it's still an interesting turn of events.

* * *

Okay, so maybe she understands more than I give her credit for. Willing to concede that she was right about my coping mechanism, but the problem is that last party. Talking about where that came from and why is damn near impossible.

But I can't focus on that too long. I'm trying to think back to that time, so that I can verbalize it when Naomi gets here, but my thoughts just keep returning to this afternoon. Naomi's never… well, she's never indicated being particularly empathetic at all, so the fact that she was able to call me out is surprising.

Fuck. Campbell 2, Fitch 1.

The worst part is that I actually, kind of… like it? Not at all what I've come to expect from her, but I appreciate it all the same. Which is bad. This is bad. That familiarity and the admiration that I've been trying to bite down on can't surface. We can't do this. You can't do this again. Get a hold of yourself, and remember who you are.

For all the good it does me.

Ah. There you are. Fuck it, looks like I'm winging it. Have I really been doing anything else? You see me. I know you see me, but you wont' look at me. What's so interesting about the fountain? What are you thinking? What holds such reverence, and why? "I applied to enroll here next semester."

Well, that clears that up, but this is so wrong that I don't know where to start. Your vacation to the States can't be permanent. You can't build your life here, there's nothing for you. And it's got nothing to do with the way my stomach lurches, or that it just got so much harder to detest you.

In a fucking pickle now, Fitch.

Silence must be more telling than I thought. "My life's not ruined, Ems. I don't think it ever will be, unless I systematically work at deconstructing it."

"What if someone tries to destroy a part of it anyway?"

"You mean like you tried to?" So smug. So nonchalant. "I'm still here." Fuck! I have no defense against this. I don't want to be at your mercy again. Okay, so maybe I do, but I don't want to want it. "I mean, don't get me wrong, it fucking her, and it took my entire mental capacity to keep a grip on myself, and not fall to the bottom of the rabbit hole you threw me into, but once I came down, I got over it."

"How?" Why can't I stop myself from going down this line of questioning? I don't want to know. Maybe I need to.

Don't shrug at me like it doesn't matter. It does. "There are more important things." That's not a real answer. "You usually calm down after venting your anger and lashing out, at least enough to talk to me. Figured this time would be no different." There it is, the real answer, as a fucking afterthought.

Do you even realize what that means? I am so fucked.

"Tell me your applying here had nothing to do with me."

"You know I can't do that, Ems." Wrong answer. But at least I feel more stable. "Why did you leave? Surely, it wasn't because of AJ." Scratch that, still floundering.

"No, it wasn't. But it's not about that anymore, Naomi. It's about why I can't come back."

"Yeah, well, maybe I need to know." You can give me stern face all you want, but it's not going to work.

"Look, can't we just drop it? It really doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does!" You've never yelled at me before. Ever. Even back when we were still playing games.

Fine. It'll do you absolutely no good, but fine. "Because you didn't trust me." Don't argue, just listen. "I was never going to come here with them, it was something we had passively talked about before you and I ever got together. But instead of you coming and just asking about whatever it is you heard, you assumed that I was just going to up and leave you. Figured if I was going to be accused of it…"

"I only did that because-"

"I know. I know why you did it. Your guilt and insecurities over the AJ debacle got to you, and you finally lashed out. I get this. But it's not my job to make you feel better about yourself."

"How can you say that doesn't matter?"

Shrug. "Because it doesn't. You came for me. You dropped everything, and you came for me. You trusted me enough to believe that those actions wouldn't come back to bite you in the ass."

"Okay, so why throw the party? That was why you left, but why were you upset with me before then?"

Head shake. It would be meaningless if I told you now. "I can't, Naomi. I just can't. Not now."

You seem tired, almost defeated. "Fine. But I'm pointing out that this isn't like you." That makes two of us, then. "You're not the runner. You face things head on." That hasn't changed, despite the present appearances. You'll figure that out, eventually. "I would love to be able to continue to verbally chase you, but I've got a morning shift tomorrow."

I'm not sure if you really do, or if you're just making things easy on me. Really hope it's not the latter. "Let me walk you home." We'll just consider it self punishment for almost letting you get to me.


	8. Halo of Nembutals Part 2

**Author's Notes**

_This chapter's a little shorter, but it's actually fairly meaty. I… don't really know what else to say about it, it kind of speaks for itself. How about that speedy update, eh?_

_Warnings: conflicted!Emily, character insight, near sexy times_

**Octahedron**

**Chapter Three: Halo of Nembutals (Part 2)**

**By Persephone's Nautical Nun**

_The night I begged you to come to me;  
The limp in your talk, and the scent of your bleed,  
And still I'm not willing to let you go._

_You covered your wounds in a bandage of sloth:  
The deeper the slur that rang from her laugh,  
And something tells me to keep it together._

_How could you turn your back on me?  
I've summoned the stampede of infidel feet,  
For all I ever wanted, is all you ever flaunted._

_Deviate by all means in name,  
Because we all crawl in quicksand the same._

Shift. Familiar. Shouldn't have done this. We're quiet, but her excitement is tangible. Fucking bobble head, taking in everything she can about the campus. You really want to be here, don't you? You're ready to be back in school.

And the things that knowledge does to me borders on unspeakable. This is self punishment, because the further we go, the more I want something I can't allow myself to have. Willing to accept that, even if I don't want to. Just have to fight it.

Kinda knew she'd be staying with Andrew in a student apartment, though no one's ever told me. That wasn't enough time. You need to live further away. Okay, don't stall at the door. Just don't. Keep your eyes away from her mouth as she offers a small smile and a thank you. She's not moving. Why isn't she moving? Fuck. Must be staring.

"Emily?"

That was all I needed; my name, said like… that.

No. No. No, no. No. Don't do it, don't do it, don't do it, don't do it, don't do it. Fuck. Fuck! Oh, no, I had forgotten how much I missed this; the feel of your hair between my fingers, and your breath in my lungs. Told myself I wouldn't do this, wouldn't fall prey to everything that you are. But I really do love the new length of your hair.

I'm drunk. I'm drunk on you, and my sponsor would be ashamed of how hard I've fallen off the wagon. But the feel of your hands at my sides brings me back down. I pull away. You pull away. I'm not sure, but I do see the question behind your eyes.

"Fuck." I need more. That wasn't nearly enough, not by far. Back again, and fuck the consequences. Where's the wall? Let's lean up against that. Here, let me help you, let me show you where it is, and if you do nothing else but make that sound for the rest of your life, I just may be okay with that.

Okay, not really, but that doesn't matter right now, because my palms are remembering what the contours of your torso feels like. No, don't push me away, not when I've finally given in. "Emily, not here." Well, if that's what you had to say, you could have skipped it. Where are your keys? Open the door. "No, I mean, there's no privacy here." You didn't just read my mind. I know you didn't, because I probably glanced to the door, but that was still creepy. And oddly, incredibly sexy.

Your eyes are dark. Still clear as the fucking sky, but dark. Dilated, and I can't look away. I feel so empty, or hollow. No. Unsatisfied. And I know this won't fix it. But a big part of me can't back down, now. And it wins. I kiss you long, and slow, and deep, and I love that sound even more than the last one.

Don't think. Just stop thinking. Let yourself feel, just for once, just for tonight. Let yourself feel it, and have it, and take it for what it is. But it can't be just what it is. No. Stop. That will get you nowhere. Just feel.

"What about your place?" What? Pay attention. Felt just a little too much. Shake it off, and shake my head.

"My bed is the living room couch." Half shrug.

"Jazz?"

Nod. Breathing slowing. Heart rate calming. Very decidedly cooling down, but the mood is still intense. Like the moment's not gone, just quiet while we try to think of a way around this obstacle. And that is what I'm doing. Pretty sure that's what you're doing, too. Sure, I could be thinking of a lot of other things, but I don't want to. Those things are bad. And they're so very draining.

There is a place. Just one that readily comes to mind. The question then becomes whether or not I want it enough. Vowed just a few hours ago to never let her go there, and now I'm considering it. Price to pay for not thinking. And I'm not thinking. Still, something inside me protests as I reach out to you, but it's small, and meek, and quickly buried underneath everything else that's going on.

Our hands don't fit together perfectly. They never did, and that makes it even better. Your long, slender fingers curl loosely around my own shorter ones, and engulf them. And without words, I'm leading you back down the stairs and through the streets. Don't think, just do. Looks like you're thinking, though. Eyes still dark, pupils still dilated, but it looks like you're determined, or have steeled yourself somehow. It gives me pause, but I know better than to open my mouth. Everything will fall apart if I do that.

They'll probably do that all on their own, anyway.

We get to the rehearsal space and all thoughts of pausing are gone. Wasting no time in opening the door, we fall over the threshold, you having settled most of your weight against my back. But aside from that, and a few hand squeezes, you've been very careful not to touch me. I guess I understand; you have no real way of knowing where the boundaries are. Guess I'm going to have to show you.

Meet you in the middle of the big, open space, and bring our lips together again. No touching. Just the kiss and the sensation of drinking each other down. I can feel you raise your hands to pull me closer, but you stop short. I find your hands with my own, and direct my face towards them, placing a kiss in the center of each palm. Place them on my hips, and press them hard against the bone. See? You can touch me. I want you to touch me. At least for tonight. Your eyes widen at my actions and lose some of their darkness. What's wrong? Why are you scared? Oh, I see. I see as your eyes close and you lean into my hand on your cheek that this means more to you than it does to me. I also see that you know that.

But we're not thinking, because for the first time in months, we're letting ourselves feel. This will be dealt with in the cold light of morning. For now, just kiss me again, and let me rake my fingers across your scalp. Can tell that you feel me smile against your mouth in anticipation of what I'm about to do. My middle finger finds that dip at the nape of your neck, and in one fluid motion, my hand curls into a fist, and I pull your hair hard enough to expose your neck to me. My lips quickly find your pulse pounding beneath the skin, working from muscle memory, and the resulting moan comes from somewhere deep inside you. My hand moves from your hair to the other side of your neck, nails lightly grazing the skin down to your collarbone, my fingers hooking into the collar of your shit.

Whoa. Okay. Pinned up against a wall, and I'm not entirely sure when that happened. But my hands are clutching at the fabric of your shirt as I feel your teeth sink into my shoulder. My mouth opens and my body arches all by itself, as the pain turns to pleasure, and a tingling sensation spreads along my shoulders, chest, and upper arms. Your fingers are fumbling with the first few buttons of my shirt, and in your confusion, I catch sight of all of the equipment, and remember where we are.

Bury it. Bury that part that screams that she isn't supposed to be here, that this is one of the few places you have left. But fuck it, because you still have Jazz and her place, and this is already happening. Not like I can stop it now, anyway. Can I? There's something clawing at the back of my mind, but as the air hits my bare torso, it quickly gets forgotten.

This doesn't seem very fair at all. Why am I the only one shirtless? We're gonna have to fix that. Few steps towards the center of the room, make her back off. Fall into her eyes, get inside her head. Figure out how big of a mess this is going to be in the morning. You know. You know, and you're still here. That thing that's clawing at me comes back. Something about something you said, I think? Fuck it, it doesn't matter. Shake it off. Push her shirt up over her stomach and lean down, trailing kisses along her abdomen. Can feel her remove her shirt completely.

Ow. Fine. No need to tug that hard, I understand you want me up there, give me a second. Can guess what you want, so let me go ahead and give it to you. Drape my arm around your neck, and kiss you hard, bordering on rough, but not quite. Your yelp of surprise is appreciated. There's a bench on the far side of the room, several feet directly behind you. Think you can make it without breaking the kiss? Here, let me lead you. It's okay, I've got you. See? I even got you around that pesky mic stand.

You're willing to submit, you're willing to be lead, and while it feels wrong somehow, it only lasts until the backs of your knees hit the bench. I'm on it in a heartbeat, staring up at you as you slowly crawl into my lap. So very, very slowly, and I can't take it anymore. Just come here so that I can feel your skin against mine. Don't laugh. Not like that; that special drunken kind of chuckle you get when you've had just enough to feel good. Really not helping my impatience any.

What was it you said? Something about tomorrow. Fuck it, it doesn't matter. Not when your tongue's sliding down my neck, and your hands are unfastening the clasp of my bra. The giggle escapes my lips before I can stop it, and I wish I could catch it and bring it back. You can try to mask your hurt behind confusion, but I know you better than that. I'm sorry. I'm not laughing at you. "Do you remember the first time you tried to do that?" See? Everything's okay. You laugh, and feign embarrassment. And you relax. You relax more than I've seen you since you've been here. It was the familiarity, the acknowledgment of the past. Oh, Naomi. I'm sorry.

I'm a real bitch.

And yet, even that knowledge doesn't stop me. I regret mentioning something that makes this about more than just tonight, but there's nothing I can do about it. I let your mouth descend upon me, and arch against your touch. I do everything I'm supposed to do, but despite my efforts to keep this going, I'm running into a wall. I have to figure it out; it'll but me until I do. What did you say? Work tomorrow, opening shift. That's only a handful of hours away. That's important. I get it now, your determination and the steel behind your eyes. You want to be here, but you don't. You want to be here some other time, under different circumstances. You're only here because you think I need you to be.

Which only manages to completely kill my libido. Why did I have to think? Thought we weren't going to do that. She's off of me before I open my mouth, so my, "I can't do this," is a bit redundant. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." You sound relieved. "I mean, it wasn't exactly right, was it?" Head shake. No, it wasn't, no matter how much I tried to make it. Silence. Then, "Will it ever be, again?"

"I don't know, Naoms." Really depends on you, friend. Not that you know that yet, but you will. You wouldn't be Naomi if you didn't. Though, really, isn't that the whole problem? Offer her a fag, and light hers first. Ever the gentleman. This is a fucking joke.

"I'd better go. Early shift and all." Sorry. Sorry I can't give you more. Sorry I dragged you out here for nothing. But, you really should go, for a multitude of reasons, least of which being that I can't even bring myself to look at you. We don't speak as you gather your discarded shirt and close the heavy door behind you.

Now here I am, alone and half naked in the one place I used to feel safe in. Not that I can really complain, since I'm the one that contaminated it, but the change should still be noted. I suppose I could put my clothes back on, but I like the feel of the air on my skin. It's too hot, and I think the heat may actually be coming from within me.

Guess I'll take my fag and lay down on the cold, dusty concrete. Can feel the dirt settle into the skin of my back as I settle down. Can think, now. Don't need to. Not going to tell myself anything I don't already know. But we're going to do it anyway, because that's just how we roll.

She's so… capable. She's got plans and goes after them. She can literally do anything. And that is so hot. It's what attracted me to her, but she was also self contained. She needed no outside motivation, and it's that self sufficiency that made me love her. She's still competent, she can still do anything, but now I'm the catalyst. And that makes me uncomfortable personally, but worse than that, it means she's no longer that thing that made me love her. Where's my uncompromising activist go?

And if I'm honest with myself, I know that it started to happen when we were still in Bristol. It's why I started to pull away, because I saw the woman I fell in love with disappearing. It's the same reason I can't come back.

And I can't even tell you that, because it would render it meaningless.

I do love you, Naomi; the you that I know you are. I just don't love the Naomi you are now. Not the way I should. Not the way you want me to.


	9. Halo of Nembutals Part 3

**Author's Notes**

_Please, please, please don't throw rotten tomatoes at me, like I know you're all going to want to do once you've read this chapter. I only ask that you please have faith in me, since I have never led you astray before, despite the strange places I have led you. This is a lot like the acid trip scene, which drew some parallels with Abnormally Attracted to Sin. I know I'm splashing around, and making a big huge mess, but really, would this be any fun if I didn't? Also, I'm sorry it's so short, but I like to think that it's exactly as long as it needs to be._

_Warnings: fucked up!Emily, hetero nonsense, full circle themes, Hard Candy line, Tori imagery_

**Octahedron**

**Chapter Three: Halo of Nembutals (Part 3)**

**By Persephone's Nautical Nun**

_Banished to Fifth Dementia.  
Cables of ringworms have hung themselves.  
Of this I ate…  
Communion change…_

_They sent in the necrophiliacs,  
Carcinogen tartans that smolder in asp.  
Of this I ate…  
Communion change…_

_Read it from bottomless palindromes,  
Hear my request to be disowned.  
Of this I ate…  
Communion change…_

_Serpents raise in prisms and rainbows escaped._

_Deviate by all means in name,  
Because we all crawl in quicksand the same._

The only sense of time here is the grey settling over the black of the windows. That and the pile of cigarette butts at your side. You've been lying here all night, and you really should move. Gonna hurt, though. All the grains of dust have settled into your skin, and moving will dislodge them. Only temporary, though.

There you go, remember what being upright feels light? Huh, interesting. Not only is your back covered in dust, but errant ash has speckled your front. Whatever. Just put on your shirt, and get home. Maybe a shower will make you feel more like yourself.

Ugh, I feel drugged. No reason the door should be that heavy. Strange thing is I think I might actually be sober? Must have forgotten what that feels like. But at least my legs head me toward home all by themselves. Walked this route so many times it's become mechanical. Seems quicker somehow, maybe because I'm not having to fight with a crowd of people. Meh. Whatever the reason…

Mmm, coffee. Coffee sounds amazing. Wait. How did Jazz know I'd need coffee? What time is it? Shouldn't you be asleep? "Where have you been? What happened to you?" What? Oh. That's right, I'm dirty. Shrug. I need coffee. And the big mug!

"Are you okay?" Wait a minute. Why am I getting the third degree? Aren't we all adults here? I don't ask her where she spends her time.

Deep drink from my coffee. This is exactly what I needed. Can feel some of the haze lift. Guess what I really need is a nap, but that won't be happening any time soon. Shrug at her question. "I'm fine." Furrow the brow, express confusion. "What's wrong with you?"

Wow. I've never seen anybody do righteous confusion like that outside of television. "I was worried about you." Okay, this is really what I don't need. Please don't do this, Jazz. I need you as you were, my friend that served as a safe haven from the world. You were the one thing I could keep for myself; know Naomi would never win you over. So I really don't want to have to lose you, too, but that's exactly what's going to happen if you continue on like this.

"Jazz, please don't. It wasn't anything more than what it was, so don't turn this into a big, awkward situation."

Also never seen feigned consideration done like that outside of television, either. "Emily Fitch, you are the most arrogant, egotistical lesbian I've ever met." Probably some of my finger qualities, actually, but I question where you get your information. Because, not really. "I thought you were being facetious last night, but you really think I've fallen for you, don't you?"

Already tired of this conversation. Or just tired in general. "Well, you are acting like a jealous girlfriend." This was the wrong thing to say. Knew that when you said it. Did it anyway. What's up with the self sabotage?

Damn, things are more off than I thought.

You never have to worry about Jazz when she's yelling. That's normal, she gets excited easily. It's when she pulls herself back and talks herself down that you have to worry. That's how you know she means business, and that's what she's doing now. "I'm actually genuinely worried about you, Emily. What happened at the party, with Naomi, it looked like it fucked you up. And then you disappear all night only to turn up looking like that." Great. Now I've hurt her. "But maybe I should just stop caring." See?

"Look, don't be like that. I'm sorry, okay? I guess I'm just going through some shit, but I'll be fine. I always am."

"You're not always fine. If you were always fine, we never would have met in the first place. So stop being a dick and trying to alienate one of your few friends."

"Look, I said I'm sorry, what else do you want?"

"Well, nothing, I guess." Tough bird, Jazz. You hurt her, and it never lasts long. "But if I was right, and you are all fucked up, will you please talk to me?"

Shrug. "It didn't matter, Jazz. She saw it coming."

Her questioning look is far too curious, and you know you're not going to be able to get away with half a story. So you tell her, because you're sleeping on her couch, and because she's your friend. Tell her about the diner. Tell her that Naomi's setting herself up here, and tell her about all the conflicted things that means for you. Tell her that running again has crossed your mind, except for the fact that there's virtually nowhere you can go. Naomi will just follow. And if once has tarnished your feelings for her this much, imagine what multiple times would do.

"Okay, I see what you mean. You really are going through some shit." Thank you. "But Emily, it's obvious that you still love her. Are the problems really big enough to keep you from being happy?"

"I think they really are." And believe me, I wish it were otherwise. But your question stirs something in me. Am I being too idealistic? Am I holding Naomi to a standard that's impossible to maintain? After all, wasn't she the catalyst for my move across the world? But that's why I loved her. She was better than me. Completely delusional, of course, but better, on some basic level. But as soon as she became aware of it, she became something else.

That's it. She needs to be alone. She needs time away from me so that she can remember who she is. I only serve as a distraction. Maybe after some time I can come back. That's our only hope, if she's serious. So I have to tell her for both of us. I have to tell her that we can't see each other again for the foreseeable future, that we each need time to sort everything out.

But before I do anything, I need a fucking shower.

* * *

What time is it? Early evening. Must have passed out after my shower. Was a good fucking shower. Let's see, there was something I was supposed to be doing, what was it? That's right; I was going to tell Naomi to stay away from me. Funny how that seemed so much more important a few hours ago. The magic of sleep, I suppose.

Start the night off right, and roll up a spliff. The first few drags have me feeling more like myself than I have in days, and I feel like I can handle anything. Now's a good a time as any. If she had a morning shift, then she should be home by now.

Still buoyed by my newfound and probably unfounded confidence and I'm standing outside your door. Andrew answers, and with a quick flash of teeth, he tells me that you had a double shift, and aren't back, yet. "She should be back soon, though, if you'd like to wait."

It's dim, and smells like stale tobacco, and reminds me faintly of a wolf's cave. Take note of the diagrams scattered across the coffee table and copy of Ender's Game. Hard to imagine Naomi here, really. Reeks of typical college boy residence. "Can I get you something to drink?" But at least his mother taught him manners.

"Water's fine." Gracious smile. Move to the couch and have a seat. Feign interest at the Opeth poster on the wall. Now, I really can't see Naomi here. Who is this guy? What does she really know about him? Fuck, give her more credit than that, Naomi's not stupid. And really, what do you know about Jazz?

"So what's your deal, Andrew?" Accept the glass of water. Notice the way his eyes shift downward in embarrassment at the interest. "Who are you, what's your story?" Slight dip of the head. Interesting.

That's right, take a seat next to me, rather than the chair across the room. He doesn't think anything of it, because he's loyal to Naomi, but I see it for what it is, and file it away. "Well, I'm an engineering major. I'm a junior. I'd love to be able to go to space one day…" Get it, now. They have completely different interests, but they have the same drive, the same motivation.

Which reminds me. "Was Naomi scheduled for a double today, or did they ask her to pick one up?"

Glance to his right. Recalling a fact. "She was already scheduled for one." Can tell he was jarred by my sudden change in topic, but he recovers well.

Fuck. Hello, conflict, we meet again. Are you stalking me? Can't get rid of the warmth that settles over me to hear about her unwavering work ethic. Except it's not exactly unwavering, is it? Because no one could survive a double shift waitressing on the amount of sleep she would have gotten if she stayed with me. Like that time she fell behind because she missed a few days because I distracted her. She knew it was a bad idea. I saw it, but she was willing to do it, anyway.

Take note again of his proximity, and you think it would probably only take a push in the right direction. "Why get involved, Andrew? None of this has anything to do with you."

He shrugs and is embarrassed again. People don't usually offer you much attention, do they? "I guess I just care." Okay, but why? "When Naomi and I got to talking, I really liked who I was talking to. I guess I just like to help the people I like."

"That's a sure way to lose yourself. Or a slow way to starve, depending on how you go about it."

Another shrug. "Maybe. I don't see it that way."

"And what way do you see it?" He looks away, off to the left. He's attracted to me, but feels guilty about it. More information for me to file away.

"I think I've learned enough, and that I'm stable enough to keep parts of me for myself." Not the point. You should keep all of you for yourself. But that'll just start and argument, and we can't have that. If this is the company that Naomi's been keeping, then I understand why she's been acting the way she has been. Doesn't mean I like it.

He's still talking, probably about his philosophical ideas, but I'm not listening. He's still talking, but I can't hear him. I'm thinking about the idea of sharing one's self, and its relation to Naomi. And then I'm just thinking about Naomi, and how she'll probably be tired when she gets home. I think about what I came here to do, and I feel something crawl into my brain. AJ. Why am I thinking about AJ?

Because his counterpart is sitting right next to me.

The thought comes quickly and settles in. Said I wasn't mad about what happened with AJ, and I'm not. Don't know how I feel about it, actually. Sometimes, the fact creeps into the back of my brain and eats at me. And it's gnawing the fuck out of me right now.

And it makes up my mind for me. It decides that Naomi should know how it feels to be betrayed on that many levels. Not only is there the fidelity issue, but the respect issue as well. She fucking knew that I wanted to have a life of my own and that I didn't want her in it, and the first thing she does is jump in with both feet. And AJ, the little prick. He knew what she meant to me, and he did it anyway. I understand he was just AJ being AJ, but it still makes my skin crawl.

But Andrew isn't AJ, and this isn't going to be as easy as that, and I don't have much time. Definitely a challenge, but let's not forget that my sister is Katie Fitch, and she taught me a thing or two about men a long time ago.

The hand on his knee makes him uncomfortable, but he doesn't move until I scoot closer to him. "What's wrong?" Keep your voice innocent, and watch him fight himself as you approach. Take your time, invade his personal space, and smirk as he physically stops himself from touching you. "You remind me of her, you know?"

"Um, thanks?" Obviously confused, because who could possibly draw a comparison between someone like him and someone like her. He backs away from you and goes back to the couch, having put some distance between it and you. Wrong move. Now it's just so easy. "But she'll be back soon, so just wait for her, okay?"

This is it. Better channel Katie, because there's no way I can do this by myself. Approach and bend forward, so that we're eye to eye. Nowhere to run, now. Touch him. Touch him right, and he's all yours. Trail a hand down his torso to graze the growing bulge at his crotch. Can see his eyes change, and that's it. Climb on top of him, and lose your mind. You've done this before, you can do it again. It'll be over in a few minutes.

Naomi's still not back when he's finished, but I have to get out of here. Was hoping she'd walk in on us so I wouldn't have to work out how to make sure she finds out, but I'll work it out.

Fight back a wave of nausea as you leave the apartment and step back into fresh air. Head is reeling as I come back to myself. What have I done? Why did I do it? It made sense at the time. Down the stairs, pick up the pace. Get away from here. Hit the ground running and brush past a tall blonde. Think I hear Naomi calling my name, but it just makes me run faster.

Run, run, run, all the way home. Tear your clothes off and throw them away. Turn the shower on all the way to hot, and let the water scald you. Grab the razor and shave. Everything. Fast, rough strokes. New skin. Joint. Or blunt. Or bong. Or all three all at the same time. Fuck. I was supposed to be at rehearsal half an hour ago. Jazz is going to kill me.


	10. With Twilight as my Guide Part 1

**Author's Notes**

_I wanted to get this chapter out to you earlier, but I've just started driving training, (I'm legally blind, so this is a big to do; ask me how!) so I haven't had the free time that I did have. For those of you that are familiar with my original work beyond Here, in my Head, (though, that counts too, you just don't realize it) specifically Perilous Mobility, then you're going to recognize a character. And don't worry, I promise this isn't going where it appears to be. I'll never actually do something like that, because I find it tacky for unknown reasons._

_Warnings: yet another OC (sorry), use of the word "fuckery," paraphrased Willow line, Emily / Jazz friendship exploration_

**Octahedron**

**Chapter Four: With Twilight as my Guide (Part 1)**

**By Persephone's Nautical Nun**

_I'm bolted from within,  
From long, conniving heights.  
The hail, it makes a special sound  
That always stays into the night._

She tells me I'm not capable  
Of what they accuse me.  
With no remorse, I stand and say  
That guilty is what I plead.

My devil makes me dream  
Like no other mortal dreams,  
With a blank eye corner.  
The only way to see him  
In the tunnel where he slept,  
By the longest tusk of corridors,  
Numb below the neck;  
In my heart,  
Where he keeps them in a vault  
Of devil daughters.

"Emily! Where the fuck's your head at?" Everywhere, Jazz. Nowhere. I don't know. Not here. And certainly not back there. "We've got a show in a week, so sort yourself out." Nod. Not actually paying attention. Just acknowledging her yelling so she won't yell some more.

Do it again, from the top, over and over and over. Voice doesn't even sound like mine anymore. It's some other girl's, who knows who she is and rocks the system. I just rock my world. Still not right, and if looks could kill, Jazz would be a murderer. Jessica refuses to look anyone in the eye, and who the fuck knows what Ange is thinking at any given point in time? Sorry guys. Sorry for fucking this up and making it horrible.

Goddamn, the slave driver's never kept us this long. Really? No one leaves until I get this right? If it were anyone else, I'd test that theory, but Jazz is a scrapper. Right. Just gotta do this, then. Not hard. Just have to forget that today happened at all. Forget it all, set it aside, and settle into the music. "Alright, I guess that'll do." I'll fucking take it, if it gets me out of here. "But get it together, Emily."

Absent nod. Wave of the hand. Yeah, yeah, I hear you. There actually is a part of me that takes it seriously, recognizing a source of income. I'm just tired, and irritable, and miserable. In fact, finding a rock to crawl under sounds like a fantastic idea.

Grab your water and step outside. Drink long and deep. Nearly choke as you hear a familiar voice behind you. "What are you playing at, Emily?" Yes, of course. Should have seen this coming. Andrew is not AJ. Of course he would have told Naomi as soon as she got home. Because he cares.

Huh. Your eyes look like blue fire. Do you know that? Feign confusion, and watch the fire intensify. Fascinating. "Did you get it out of your system? Are we finally fucking even?" Yes, actually. For the time being. Probably won't last.

You look lost, which offers me a strange kind of validation, as though everything I've done has been right. But that can't possibly be right. I should say something, but I've forgotten what words are. Probably for the best, because I'm sure whatever I would say would be completely the wrong thing.

You speak for me, though, so I don't have to worry about it. "I have been so goddamn patient. I have done everything right, and I have faced everything you have thrown at me without flinching. I have taken every punishment you've handed out. I don't know what else to do. I don't know what you want."

"Don't you get it? I don't want anything. That's the whole fucking point." My own anger surprises me. Where did it come from? Stopped in her tracks, eyes defensive and mouth open but silent. What's wrong, Naomi? Don't know what that means? Don't know how to respond? "Besides, it's not like I did anything you wouldn't do. Bit hypocritical, don't you think, love?"

You straighten up and thrust your chin out. Hadn't noticed you'd been hunched in anger. Slow head shake, and I've never seen you so passionate. Interesting. "This isn't a game of 'Anything you can do, I can do better.'" How long have you been preparing for this? Your tone is low and hollow, and not at all what freshly upset Naomi sounds like.

Bring yourself down. Mirror her calm. "You sure about that?" Okay, yeah, stupid question. "You have no right to be angry with me. We owe each other nothing."

She looks away and shakes her head again. Maybe I really have pushed too far. But what other option was I left with? "Who's lying, now?" Stop looking at me like that. Let me go, I don't want your scrutiny, and I sure as hell don't want you in my head. Not right now. "We owe each other everything, Emily. I owe you everything." Silence. "I'd die for you." Please don't. Die, I mean. And promise never to live for me.

"I never asked you to." Cool. Calm. Unflinching.

"Isn't that beside the point?"

"It's exactly the point, Naomi." Stare down. This is getting us nowhere. Come talk to me when you figure it out. None of this means anything, and the only thing we're accomplishing is to hurt each other and push each other further away. Or maybe that's just me.

"I'm so angry." You're not talking to me. Your voice is soft and your eyes far away and I don't think you realize you've said it.

I answer anyway, and it brings you back to the situation. "Good." Turn and walk away. Leave her and don't look back.

"What happened to you, Emily?" Don't stop. Don't acknowledge it. "I'm not the only one to blame for this." I know that. Believe me, I know that. Bit past blame at this point, though. Ignore the ice settling into the warmth in your stomach. Push it all away. Find yourself again. Do whatever it takes.

* * *

This is what I'm talking about. Haven't done this for weeks. Why did I stop doing this? Feel the thrum of the bass travel through the floor, up my legs to settle at the base of my spine. Night's not young, but there's still no reason to rush. Move to the music; sway and rock, get a feel for the mood of the place. Who's here? Where's a face I've never seen before? No one looks interesting. Well, fuck.

Move further into the throng of people, as close to the center as possible. Feel your body and find your rhythm, and wait for your prey to come to you. Glance at the eyes on you, feel the want and the intimidation. Let it fill you. Turn away from the first girl brave enough to try to join in. Not interesting in blondes, tonight.

Well, this is interesting. And a first. Tall, dark, and handsome on my right, and a fellow redhead on my left. Catch the challenge between them as they lock eyes. Alright, we'll play. Acknowledge both of them as they move in closer and dance with me. Tall, dark, and handsome finds my hands and twirls me, catching me in her arms. Conquering this one would be interesting. And a challenge I just may be up for, because she has no idea what's really in store for her if she wins.

But the redhead's behind me, and in a very creative move, manages to get her arms under tall, dark, and handsome's, and her hold on me's broken. The redhead's hands are on my hips, guiding them to patterns and places that would make my mother blush. Turn my head to catch a glimpse of her eyes. Must be a trick of the light. No way they can actually be electric green.

Tall, dark, and handsome is quickly forgotten and discarded, as this redhead makes you feel things you haven't felt in months. Despite the day I had, I know tonight's going to be fantastic. "I'm Sam." Her breath is hot and moist against my ear. Oh god, I genuinely want her. Thought I'd lost the ability to do that.

But I don't really care what your name is, honey. And good luck getting mine from me. This is just about tonight.

When did it start raining? Why don't I care, as I push my hand through the redhead's rain soaked clothes to find her stomach? It's heavy, and sounds like the blood rushing through my veins. She steps forward, backing me against the wall, hands on either side of me. No doubt about it, she must have contacts. Not quite as bright as I thought they were, but just this side of unnatural.

Oh, I see. You think I'm one of those girls. The look on your face is going to be amazing when you find out I'm not. Glad you're just as challenging as the other one. Didn't lose anything. You don't see it coming. You don't expect it, because I'm little, but you're pressed against the wall on the other side of the alley, my knee digging into the brick between your legs. "Take me back to your place." Not a question. Not a request. A demand.

And she does. Of course she does. What other choice does she have? She chuckles, and thinks it's cute when I pin her hands above her head. But she doesn't know, yet. I've told her, but she doesn't believe me; tries to take control of the situation, but a hard scratch and a bite just hard enough to draw blood tells her she's not getting her way.

I take from her, and she gives to me, and I think she understands my frenzy. It's never been like this before, didn't know it was possible; this primal act that is both rough and cleansing. Maybe it's the act of wanting and enjoying another person. When was the last time I let myself do that? Not since Naomi, when things were good.

Lay tangled in a mass of flesh and limbs, and I register that this is the part where I find my clothes and leave. Except I've had a hell of a day, and I'm drained, and I'm satisfied and sleepy. What harm could it do? She still doesn't know my name. Already forgotten hers. I'll leave in the morning. Before breakfast. Hopefully, before she wakes up.

* * *

Warmth. That feels good. What time is it? Where am I? Oh, that's right. Stayed at that girl's place last night. Fuck, where is she? Sheets are cold. Must have left a while ago. Should probably leave, too, but the sun's beating down on my back. Few minutes won't hurt. Not if I've been here this long.

Alright, that's enough laying around in a stranger's bed. Time to get up and out of here before she comes back. Knickers, bra, and trousers seem to be here, so where the fuck's my shirt? Search for several minutes before finding it in the living room.

She doesn't seem to be here. Could take the time to snoop. Won't. Don't care enough. Never setting foot in this place again, so I don't care about who lives here. Note on the door. Something about class, coffee, and locking the door on the way out. Ignoring the first two parts of that, and the last is common courtesy.

Double check your stuff, make sure you're not forgetting anything. Flip the latch and secure the door. Spliff sounds good right now. Fag'll have to do until I get home. Alright, now think. Where are you in relation to the club and where is the club in relation to home? Should be in that general direction. Guess we'll find out.

Took getting lost a few times, and a couple of miscalculated turns, but things start looking more familiar after several blocks, and after that, it's autopilot. Can hear Jazz as I turn the key and open the door.

"Okay, do you live here, or not?"

"I live here, I live here. Sorry."

"You're in a good mood." Why the hesitation, Jazz? Shrug. Guess I am. "So where were you, last night?"

Flop down on the couch. Sigh. Where's the weed? There it is. Start rolling a spliff. "Spent the night at some girl's place." Lick it. Stick it. Yeah. Light this fucker up. Jazz's silence tells me everything about her astonishment. Please, it's not that big of a deal.

"Oh." Finally. A response. Only took me waving a spliff in your face. Use the smoking time to collect yourself. "Are you going to see her again?"

Jesus, don't sound so interested. Head shake. Violent one. "No. It was just a one off. We both knew that. I was just exhausted."

"Hmm. Okay." Fake compliancy is not compliancy. Eh, oh well. At least we're not talking about it.

"So what's up with this talent show fuckery?" Take the offered spliff. Hit it. Sip on it. No hurry. The idea of a talent show is even worse than a battle of the bands. And one at the university, no less? The only reason we're allowed entry is because Jess goes there part time. "Why can't we have an actual paying gig? Why does it have to hinge on whether or not we out perform someone else?" Hand her back the spliff.

Shrug. "There's just not anything going on right now. It happens now and then. Usually see it around mid-term and finals week." Break to toke. "Everyone's preoccupied. It'll pick back up."

"You do know we don't have a chance in hell of winning this thing, right?" Oh, spliff again. Cool.

Why do you look mischievous, Jazz? What do you know? "Why would you think that?"

"It's going to be a popularity contest. The only one of us that even goes there is Jess."

"Ah, but you're forgetting how long Jessica's been around here. And the fact that she knows and gets along with pretty much everyone. That, coupled with the fact that we have a hot new, gay, foreign singer, and I'd say we're a shoo in."

Why had I never noticed it before? Knew it happened with me, so why did I never think about it? "You're very methodical about the way you choose your band mates, aren't you?" Hand back the spliff. Indicate you're finished with it.

That's a crazy look. "You're just not figuring this out?"

"It's not about the music at all, is it?"

Uh-oh. That's your serious face. I've seen it before, I know what it means. "Oh no, it's very much about the music, we wouldn't practice as much as we do if it wasn't. We're all very good at what we do. Even you. You've morphed into quite the performer. I've just noticed that if we have certain roles filled, we don't have to work so hard to get attention. It's just given."

"Alright, so explain Ange." Dare you. Because nothing can explain Ange. So go on. I'd like to hear this.

Another shrug. "Angela's the dark, quiet, mysterious one. I've seen many a tortured English major fall over themselves trying to impress her with their extensive vocabularies."

"So in other words, you don't know anything about her."

"Not a fucking clue. But she's the best damn drummer I've ever heard." This is true. "Girl knows what she's doing." This is unarguable. Never heard anything like the creative shit she comes up with.

This is nice. This is good. When was the last time I just sat on the couch with Jazz and hung out? Everything's been happening so fast, one thing after another. Feels like I've been running on fumes. Guess I have. Has it really only been three days since the party? Seems surreal. But I feel calmer than I have in a while. Must make a note to do this more often.

But of course it can't last. Because I like it. I like it, so it must be destroyed. "So are we going to talk about it, or just pretend it never happened?" Just don't know when to leave well enough alone, do you, Jazz? Ask what she's talking about, because that's just what you do. Didn't need to, of course. Knew the answer already. "Whatever happened with Naomi last night. What's going on?"

Bite your tongue. Don't get prickly. You just had a conversation about how you need to stop pushing her away. She's your friend, and she cares. "She's mad at me because I slept with Andrew." Shocked silence. Awesome.

"When did that happen?" Why do you sound so careful? What are you tiptoeing around? Not like the outcome of this situation affects you at all.

What the hell. "Yesterday, before rehearsal."

"Well, that explains a lot." Think if you had a newspaper, you'd snap it open and start reading it randomly. As it is, you're stuck with pretending your nails are terribly interesting. I don't believe you. You can't make me.

"Go ahead and say it."

"Say what?" Please, that didn't even sound like confusion. And what's the point in playing this game, anyway?

"Whatever it is you want to say."

Looks like she's going to try to play innocent again, but I think my face tells her no. "I just don't know what you're doing. And I don't think you do, either."

You'd be wrong on that count. "I know what I'm doing."

"Okay, and what is that? Because from where I'm standing, you're spiraling out of control."

"I know. I know it looks that way. Sometimes, it feels that way." Things always look differently from the outside, and I know how my lashing out looks. "I'm hurting her. Because I've told her, and that doesn't work. Nothing I tried worked. It was kind of the only thing left to me, and I think it finally did the trick."

"Don't you think you're doing it the wrong way?"

"I don't know what other way to go about it."

Silence. "Maybe you should see last night's girl again."


	11. With Twilight as my Guide Part 2

**Author's Notes**

_Um, yeah, I don't know what to tell you. Let's blame my slow update on the fact that I hadn't planned this chapter ahead of time (though I did plan the next full one), upcoming finals, and the fact that it's getting warmer._

_Emily needs a break. So these couple of chapters might come off as pointless filler, but I promise there's a point to it._

_Warnings: introspective!Emily, shroom-aid, flag burning attempt_

**Octahedron**

**Chapter Four: With Twilight as my Guide (Part 2)**

**By Persephone's Nautical Nun**

_When I bend in kicking form  
With twilight as my guide,  
In every home  
The ghost veins gossip,  
You can hear them if you try._

_When my quill begins to squirm_  
_From the ashes in your urn;_  
_Your deviance is anything but faithful._

_My devil makes me dream_  
_Like no other mortal dreams,_  
_With a blank eye corner._  
_The only way to see him_  
_In the tunnel where he slept,_  
_By the longest tusk of corridors,_  
_Numb below the neck;_  
_In my heart,_  
_Where he keeps them in a vault_  
_Of devil daughters._

_Dear Katie,_

_I miss you. Things have fallen apart so quickly over here that I'm starting to wonder if they were ever together. Naomi being here created a bigger mess than I was prepared for. Or maybe I'm the one that caused it, I can't tell anymore._

_I don't want her here. It's not right, and throws everything all askew. She should be over there, focusing on school, and being amazing. I could still love her there, from afar. I can't love her here. She shouldn't be waiting tables. And she certainly shouldn't be doing it for me._

_I just can't make her leave. I can't make her understand. I told her to go home, because there's nothing here for her. That didn't work. So then I give her LSD, and force a bad trip by making out with my friend, Jazz. Who, by the way, she had suspected something was up with. There really, really isn't, but it just made the whole thing worse. Except she saw it fucking coming. And that, in and of itself… what it means…_

_I'm just so fucking confused._

_I didn't know what to do, Katie. You need to understand that. She's planning on fucking staying here. I found that out, and it felt like I was being backed into a corner. And I went to her, and I was all geared up to tell her to just stay away, because it's better for everyone. But she wasn't there, and her friend, Andrew, was. And I was waiting, but then I thought about AJ. I thought about AJ, and I felt trapped in my own skin, and the only thing I could think to do was fuck Andrew._

_What is wrong with me?_

_I met a girl; the first one I've spent the whole night with since I've been here. Jazz seems to think she was good for me, or something, and wants me to see her again. I don't even know her name, though, so that's not happening. It was nice, though. She was what I needed, I think, but I just can't do that again._

_Tell me what to do, Katie. Because I don't know, anymore._

_Love,_

_Emily_

Crumple it up. Toss it away. Can't send that. Can't even think about it. Katie would explode if she heard all of that. Wonder if she can feel my turbulence from all the way over there. Imagine she probably can. Let's not confirm it.

Fresh sheet of paper. Start again.

_Dear Naomi,_

_There's so much I want to say to you that I don't know where to start, and so much I can't say. Everything's all fucked up, and I don't know how it got that way. Or I guess I know how it got that way; I just don't know how those things happened. Or how I let them happen. Or why._

_No. I know why._

_This isn't right, Naomi. You shouldn't be here. You shouldn't be bringing malts and salads to gross old men. You shouldn't be smiling as they wink at you and comment on your accent. You shouldn't be here chasing me. You shouldn't chase anyone. You should chase… you._

_You should be home, in some politics course, debating with your peers about the state of the world, and how it can be fixed. You should be working towards something you want; something sustaining and real, and doesn't hinge on somebody else. Because you're so much better than that, so much greater than that. For a while, it was charming that you didn't realize just what you are, but not even my love for you could show you. Because here you are._

_You were this force. You were this incredible force, and no one could stop you. Imagine my disappointment when I did. I never wanted to direct it. I never wanted to control it. I just wanted it to be, so that I could love it. And I wish it were still out there, somewhere._

_I am a horrible, swirling storm of emotions and contradictions right now, and I think it's safe to say that I'm dangerous. So, you should go. You should go, and find that force again, and hold on for dear life, and go where it takes you. And I know it didn't take you here. That was your own deviance._

_I need you to leave me behind. It's the only way for things to be right, and it's the only chance we have. The problem is that more than that, I need you to do it for you, and not for me. Leave me behind, let me sort through all this bullshit, and I'll catch up. But the process can't start until you go back home. You interrupted it by coming here; revert it back to square one._

_If you've never trusted me before, trust me now. This is for the best, and it's the only way things can go if we're both going to survive this…_

Hold it up. Stare at it. Read it again. Read it as Naomi, and tear it to shreds. It just doesn't translate.

Here we go. One more time.

_Dear Emily,_

_What the fuck is wrong with you? You used to be so sure of everything, of Naomi, of you. Where did that calm go? Where did that girl with all the answers go? Get it together, because this is getting ridiculous. You didn't even want to sleep with Andrew. You're better than this. You're stronger than this, so start acting like it._

_You're letting everything get under your skin, and you need to not. Remember to let it go down only so far. Let it settle, gather it, and push it away. Because it doesn't matter. You know what's what, and you know what to expect._

_Guess that's the root of the problem; the unexpected happened. Of course you didn't think Naomi would follow you. It's not in her nature to do so. Or at least it wasn't._

_But just because the unexpected happened doesn't mean you lose yourself. You've got all the answers, so find them. Everything has always been so clear. It still is, you just have to figure it out. Figure yourself out, because this is beneath you._

It feels too short. There should be more to say. There's not; just circles to be made. Round and round we go. No, thank you. Once is enough. Read it over, fall into the mindset. Feel a strength settle into your limbs.

The knocking scares me. Not sure why. Drop the letter and open the door. Bryan. Wow, it's actually really good to see you. No words. Just a great, big, Bryan hug. Hadn't realized how I needed it. Hands on my shoulders. Scrutiny. You know something, and you're trying to figure out what the damage is. "You okay?" See?

Shrug, because it's the only answer available, really. Step aside to let him inside. Not the head shake. "You're actually coming with us." Us? "Now, don't look at me like that, you could use some good times with good friends. Come on."

Won't get out of this. He won't let me. But who is this us that you speak of? Have you found you a lady friend, or have you finally gotten over whatever it is that kept you at a distance for so long? It was never personal. Life just happens.

Though, I guess the end of our music project affected you more than anyone else.

Down the stairs and into the warm night. Appears both of my theories are correct. Greeted by Shane and Ange. No way would Ange gravitate to Shane. Glance at Bryan, devilish smirk. Really? What happened in that bathroom? Well, tonight should be interesting, if nothing else.

Oomph. Shane hug, always means them. Regain your balance as he releases you. "Ready for an adventure?" Uh-oh. This could be dangerous. Especially considering tonight's line up. Don't even know how to act around Angela. Fuck it, guess it doesn't matter. Watch him pull out four water bottles from his bag. Except it's very decide3dly not water inside of them. Red so dark it's almost black. And what are those things floating in it? "Bottoms up."

Sigh. Fuck it, he's probably not going to kill me. Unscrew the cap and chug. Definitely alcoholic. Feel slimy chunks slide down your throat. Vague idea of what we've got here. Drink it down. No point in keeping it around. "Alright, what did I just swallow?"

"Shroom-Aid!" Oh, Bryan. This was your concoction, wasn't it? Actually, all things considered, it wasn't bad. And at least this explains the chunks floating around in it. Bits of boiled mushrooms.

"And the alcohol?"

"Tequila!" You're way too excited, Shane. Probably safe to assume that was your own little input.

"Why?"

Shane hippie shrug. "Why not?" Pause. Awkward silence. Now what? "Let's get this part started, shall we?" Well, if you say so. What exactly is this party consisting of, anyway? Meh, tonight's going to be an adventure regardless. Just a matter of waiting for the trip to kick in.

Feel the tequila trickle down your limbs as you head off after Shane. No idea where we're going. Don't really care. Bryan and Angela behind me. Now, that's something I wasn't expecting. Must find out more about this phenomenon. Slow down, fall into step with them. Address Ange, just because you don't talk to her much, and this is a good excuse. "So, Bryan's pretty great, huh?"

"Well, he's pretty something alright." Okay, really not sure how that's supposed to be taken, but I catch them share a smile, so whatever. Already come to terms with the fact that I will never understand Angela. Such is life.

"So how did this happen?" Pretty sure LSD was involved, but I'd love to hear your version.

Mocking smile. What? "Just what do you think this is?" Starting to see why Naomi found you interesting. Eyebrow arch. Incredulous laugh without waiting for a response. Sort of out of my element, here. I see. You're too smart for social niceties.

"We'll talk about it later." Thanks, Bryan. And you're going to have to explain her to me. Or at least flesh out the skeleton I've got. Think I need some back story here.

Ah. There it is that familiar wave rush up my body and into my head. Time to trip. Just in time. Watch Shane scale a fence, follow suit. Hear Bryan and Ange follow. Ugh. Should have bent my knees more. Underestimated the height. Shake it off, and have a good look around.

Um, where the fuck are we?

No time to wonder; follow Shane across a field and through a small break in a wall of trees. "Anyone else feel like we just stepped through a portal?" Yes, Bryan, that would be an accurate description of what just happened. Deeper and deeper we go, and darker and darker it gets. Not a good place to be on shrooms. Don't look at the trees; don't look at their limbs reaching for you. It's not real. Sure hope we get out of here soon.

Break through the trees, back in the openness. Finally. That was horrible. Bad idea, Shane. Bad, bad idea. Keep moving, because he hasn't stopped; across a sports field. This has to be some kind of community center. And I'd be willing to bet we're trespassing.

Holy hell. Just Bryan. Why is he running? Watch him veer off from Shane's path towards a small flagpole. Don't actually realize what he's doing until he's back with us; flagpole and subsequently attached flag, with him. "What are you planning on doing with that?" hear Ange ask him. Catch his answering shrug. Heh. Couple of very few words. I think.

Yet another fence. Small, chain link. Might as well not be here for all it hinders me. Small playground. Very small playground. Ooh, swings. Sure hope we've gotten to where you want us to be, Shane, because this is what I'm doing. Up and down, and up and down. Feel the tension in your arms. Enjoy it. Have a conversation with the moon. What's that? You wish you could look at something other than the earth for once? You'd even settle for being able to look away? Yeah, I imagine it would get pretty tedious after a couple thousand years. I feel for you. I really do. "I never realized how much of a workout swinging it." That is correct, Shane.

Skid to a halt, head towards the merry-go-round. Pause. Just Bryan and Ange over there. Don't want to interrupt anything. Catch Bryan's eye, and the invitation. Settle myself between two bars; watch Bryan flick his lighter underneath his stolen flag. Of course it won't catch. Angela seems particularly disappointed. What's with the citizens over here hating this country? I'm indifferent. Watch him tear it into long strips, instead. Destruction one way or another, huh? Take the offered strip of cloth; watch him tie his own around his head and arms. Whatever. This doesn't hold the same symbolism for me.

Thud. Think Shane jumped from his swing. Can hear his steps approach. "Righteous." Seems he's just as excited as these two. Offer him my piece of the flag. Lay back, feel the metal cool my skin through the fabric of my shirt. Let them have this moment of rebellion. Can actually see the stars. That's surprising.

But not as surprising as the world starting to spin. Feel the metal disc jerk as someone hops onto it. The stars. What are they doing? It's like they're fighting; dating back and forth, clashing and colliding across an epic battlefield. "Hey, do you guys see what I see?"

"That depends." Depends on what, Shane. "What do you see?"

"Star battles."

Silence. Continual silence. How should silence be interpreted in this situation? What does it mean? Am I insane? Know I'm hallucinating. Silence doesn't usually last this long. Will somebody please say something? Swear I'm going to explode if somebody doesn't break this mood soon.

"Holy shit." Thank you, Ange. Thank you for a lot of things; for breaking the silence, for being the one to do it, and for sounding so genuinely awestruck. It's all the answer I need.

Not long before I get another one, though. See Bryan's hand point to the sky. "See that group coming back around for another attack?" Yeah, I do, actually. Kind of rooting for them. Got their asses handed to them the last time they tried this. Go, go, go! Yes. Way to go, guys. Knew you could do it.

"How incredible is it that we're all seeing the same thing?" Shane says as the war wages on. Murmurs of agreement. Come on, guys, this is something worth talking about.

"Well, I mean, are you familiar with the theory of subjective reality at all?" Negative responses. Except for Ange, who seems to have shifted a little. Can't read it, though. "It's the idea that nothing is real. That the tree over there is only there because we say so. Therefore, whatever we say is." Nods of intoxicated wonder. Uncomfortable vibe from Ange. Sorry, Shane and Bryan, but I have to do this. "That's not right, though, is it? Things are the way things are, and no amount of wishing is going to change it."

"Yeah, but, we just saw proof." Head shake. Shane's finger pointed to the sky.

Knew you'd have trouble letting that go. "No, what we saw were the hallucinations of four people on shrooms." Had to be said. "Besides, if you follow that line of thinking, then none of us are real. We're just figments of some consciousness' imagination. How horrible. What would be the point of life if that were the case? Looking deeper, it seems kind of morbid, and suicidal."

"Too heavy." Think I'm the only one who heard Ange's voice.

Wait.

She understands.

Right. Better not let them sit on that for too long. Shrooms is not the drug for such thoughts. "Let's go on an adventure, come on." Hop up. False energy. Feed them happiness, and flounce off before they can protest. This is what we're doing, and there's no room for argument. Just need to figure out what, exactly, that is. Pick a random direction, and start walking. Looks like we'll have to go through trees regardless of what we do. Thought I saw light through the wall over here. Yup. Short path and we're behind an apartment complex.

And their sprinklers are on. I couldn't have planned this better myself.

Turn around. Index finger to the lips. Make eye contact with each of them; make sure they get the message. Take off running, straight into the spray. This should scare away any demons, and lighten things up. Twirl, catch sight of your friends prancing in the water, silent laughter all around us.

This has been a good night.

Shane left us first, and it wasn't long before Bryan said good night to Ange. "Feeling better?" he asks as we approach Jazz's place. Feels like his question should bother me, but it doesn't.

"Yeah, actually, thanks."

"Well, when Angela told me you didn't seem like yourself, I knew I had to step in."

"Wait, Ange told you?"

"Yeah, she said you were distracted at rehearsal, and that it wasn't like you." Okay, not surprised that people are talking about me, because that seems to happen a lot, but I am surprised to discover that Ange pays any kind of attention to me.

"So, you and Ange, huh?" The idea was still strange, but settling.

"Yeah." Big smiles. He really likes her. Remembers himself, though. "I mean, we're just having fun right now, but it's good."

"I'm glad to hear that." And I really am. He deserves to be happy, and he's been angsty and broody for a while. Just hope he doesn't get too wrapped up in her. Think she could break his heart in a second if she wanted to.

But now I'm coming down, and I'm sure there are a spliff and a couch waiting for me.


	12. With Twilight as my Guide Part 3

**Author's Notes**

_Well, guys, we're halfway through this sucker. Some of you have been onto me about this particular plot bunny for the last several chapters, but really, if you've bothered to take a gander at my profile, then you should have been expecting it. Because I have things to explore._

_Sorry about the delay in updates. Seems I'm busier now than when classes were going on. I've graduated community college, and now I'm trying to get all of my ducks in a row to go to university, and the amount of paperwork is ridiculous. But I also slaved over this chapter, and that also accounts for some of the delay._

_By the way, you should all start keeping an eye on my fictionpress account. Why? Because I've started a new original project, and it's going to be amazing. Nothing's posted yet, but it will be. Seriously, keep an eye out._

_Warnings: the final appearance of Sam (maybe; everything's game for the last few chapters, really), Tori lyric, Emilie Autumn lyrics_

**Octahedron**

**Chapter Four: With Twilight as my Guide (Part 3)**

**By Persephone's Nautical Nun**

_Everybody  
Hangs like dead leaves.  
Don't you hurt these  
Branches, waiting.  
I've been watching  
You fall to me.  
Don't desert me.  
I'm not waiting._

How did this happen? Was on the couch, figuring out my day, and then I was at her door. How did I remember where she lived? Can't even remember her name. Yet, here we are, at a hookah bar, and it's not awkward. "You're going to think I'm horrible."

She shrugs. "Why do you care what I think?" Good point.

"I can't place your name." Takes it well, at least; with laughter, eye crinkles and all.

"It's Sam." Sam. Remember that.

"Emily."

"I know."

Pause. Slight head turn. Study her; the look in her eye, and the way she carries herself. "You were one of the original fans of London Riot, weren't you?"

More laughter. "You know, I was pissed when Holli left. She was good. Different."

Shrug. "I never knew her."

"Yeah, well, at least her replacement isn't bad." Silence. Feel the mood shift. "So, why are we really here, Emily?"

"I'm not entirely sure." Might as well be honest. "You don't seem surprised to be here."

"I am, but only a little. For whatever reason, I tend to be that thing people need. I don't know why. I don't try to."

"That must be horrible."

Dismissive hand wave. "No, it's not bad. It doesn't usually get in the way of my life, or anything. I had just assumed you had taken what you needed already." Okay, when put like that, I am horrible. "So what issue that you need to sort out brought us here?"

Fuck it. Not taking advantage of a stranger if she's asking, right? Maybe that's the whole point. We're already here. Tell her everything. Tell her about Naomi, and how we got to where we are. She nods. She asks questions. She waits for me to finish. "You are one piece of work, Emily Fitch."

"Yeah, I know."

"No, I mean…" Trailing off. She's not sure where to start. "How dare you hold this girl to your ideals?"

"How could I not? If love is the reflection of values, how could I love someone any other way? How can you love something you don't value?"

"Okay, fine, I'll give you that one. But does she know what she's supposed to be upholding? Have you ever sat down and told her what you think, and who she is to you?"

"Doesn't that render the conversation meaningless?"

Think she's laughing at me, rather than with. "How is she supposed to make you happy if she doesn't know what you want?"

"That's just it. I don't want anything. Not really. I want her to live life for herself, and not have me as a driving force. If I tell her that, then I'm still the driving force. I don't want that."

"And you really don't think that's important for her to know? The way I see it, you've had this vision of Naomi for years, and now that she doesn't seem to be that person, you want to pull away. Have you ever bothered to find out who Naomi is according to Naomi?"

System malfunction. Brain's forgotten how to work. "So," she's changing the subject. Thank god. "What's up with this talent show on Friday?"

And just like that, I remember how to be human. "Yeah, well, Jazz says there's nothing else going on. Not until the end of the semester."

"Yeah, but still, you guys must be hard up for money if this is what you're resorting to. I mean, what do you do?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, surely, performing doesn't pay all of your bills."

"No, actually, it does. I think you underestimate how good we are, or how serious." Think I may actually be a little insulted.

I know that face. Everyone's got that face. That face says she's got something to say, but doesn't know how. Well, just say it. That's the whole point of this, right? "Fuck it." There. Must have reached the same conclusion I did. "You're full of shit." Wow. Okay. Ouch. "You hold Naomi to this idealistic self-sufficient standard, yet you can't even bother to get yourself a real job?"

Defense. First instinct. Ignore. Second instinct; logic. "There are other ways to be successful, you know. I've chosen a different path, that doesn't make it invalid. I get by."

"I don't think you even know what you think you just said." Excuse me? "Let me guess; you're crashing the couch of a good friend. Probably one of the band members. Sure, you probably help with rent and bills, but the fact remains that you're just getting by."

"There's no shame in that. I'm not relying on anybody, that's the point."

"And in ten years, when the 'starving musician' act isn't cute anymore? I mean, you do know you're not going to last more than a few years, right?" Logic gives way to honesty. She may be underestimating us, but am I overestimating us? We're good. Not that good. "At least Naomi's doing something with her life. She's got a real job, and according to you, will be back in school, soon, which is something you wan, by the way. What are you doing?" I don't know. Used to know. Why don't I know? "From what you've told me, it seems like Naomi hasn't changed at all."

Yeah, well, you don't even know here, do you? Still. What if she's got a point? Is there something else going on here? Something I didn't see? "You know, everyone around me wants to talk about it, and give me opinions, and try to make things better. But this is the first time this idea has been presented to me."

"Well, that's because I'm not your friend. I'm not trying to make things better. I'm just being honest."

What am I supposed to do with that? Take the hose and inhale. Nothing but stale air. "Well, that's done." Suppose this meeting is, too. Accept the fifteen bucks she hands you for what she smoked as she gets up. "Should we recognize social niceties?"

Watch her consider; shake her head. "I don't see a need to; we probably won't see each other again."

Probably not. "Fair enough." And then she's gone. Not sure what I was expecting.

Feel strangely better, though.

* * *

Something about this whole thing reminds me very much of college. I mean, this is supposed to be university, and therefore way cooler, but this whole thing reeks of Roundview. Bet the cool kids aren't even here. No way we're going to win this thing. Not mainstream enough. Not by far.

Something's tugging at my brain. Something's here. Like something that's mine, but lost and forgotten about. Scan your surroundings. Nothing out of the ordinary. Just in your head. Shake it out, and get ready for the stage. Such as it is.

Been so long since I've been on a stage that small that I almost forget how. Probably best to just stay behind the stand and pretend I'm straight. Usually does the trick. Gonna have to tone it down some, though, for the venue. No wonder Jazz wants us to stick to our more… accessible songs.

Pick a table in the back corner, and enjoy the shows. Note the packs of people that are clearly here in support of their friends. How does this thing work? The audience votes? Yeah, we're fucked. Catch sight of Sam across the room. Does she go here? Surely she knows I'm here, but if she sees me, she makes no indication of it.

Glass clink. Jazz. Bearing alcohol. Before a show? "What the fuck?" Obvious response to my expression. "There's something in the air tonight. It's electric."

Sure, if you want to call it that. Still, no point in wasting good liquor. Knock down the shot; whatever it is. Cough it down. Wait for it to settle. There is something in the air, though. Can't shake the feeling that there's something here I should be paying attention to.

Scan the program. Watch the first band finish and the second step onto stage. Girl and her piano. Probably part of the music department. She's good. We could use a keyboard.

We're seventh to go on, which I find amusing. Also means I can zone out for a while. Catch Jess across the room, absorbed in conversation. NO doubt trying to garner attention before we go on. Can't make out who she's talking to, though.

"We should do 'Underjoyed,'" I say as the show goes on. "It'd be perfect for this crowd." Watch her look around; take not of the growing boredom of the patrons. ADD's killing this generation.

"I don't know. Another Jack Off Jill cover?"

"Why not? You think anyone here's going to know, or care? Honestly, if I play it right, they'll love it."

Shrug. "Okay, we can open with that, but you'd better overplay it." That's just what I was thinking. "I still want to finish with 'Southern Belle', though." I understand this thought. It's poppy enough, and the smart kids will find the irony. But I have a better idea.

"'Opheliac' would go better with 'Underjoyed.'" Wait for it. Wait for it… Don't oversell it; she'll come to the same conclusion.

"Fine." Gee, don't try to hide your disdain on my account. Know I'm pushing, style-wise, but the few shots have gotten to me, and my body is humming. I can do anything tonight. I can get away with murder.

And then I'm on stage, deadpanning my way through the first chorus of 'Underjoyed.' Gotten a few grins, but I'm just getting warmed up. Here we go, second verse. Lots of energy. Get obnoxious with it, so that by the time 'Opheliac' starts, I've got them.

This is hard, but you can do it. Keep the energy, but manipulate it. Bring it down inside yourself, and let it ember. Let Ange's bass drive you. Keep the voice down; hear it quiver with the power you won't give it. Wait for the bridge to start building. Tighten your throat, and focus on the back of your mouth. Neither a growl or a scream comes out of you for the chorus, but some weird combination of the two.

Same thing. Let's go. Get through the second chorus, here comes the fun part. Remove the microphone, and kick the stand out of the way. Stand on the very edge of the stage, confront the audience. "Studies show: intelligent girls are more depressed because they know what the world is like. Don't think for a beat it makes it better when you sit her down and tell her everything's going to be alright. She knows in society she's either a devil or an angel; no in between. She speaks in the third person so she can forget that she's me."

Table to the right of me erupts in applause, but I don't have time to acknowledge it. Jess has a solo, and it would be nice if I shifted the focus there.

Point emphatically at her. Move to the beat. Go steal a drink of water before it's time to quote Shakespeare. "Doubt thou, the stars are fire. Doubt thou, the sun doth move. Doubt truth to be a liar. But never doubt… I love."

Final chorus. Do it big. Let it build to the promise you made when the song started. "You know the games I play, and the words I say when I want my own way. You know the lies I tell when you've gone through hell, and I say I can't stay. You know how hard it can be to keep believing in me when everything and everyone becomes my enemy. And when there's nothing more you can do, I'm gonna blame it on you. It's not the way I wanna be, I only hope that in the end you will see…" Sharp cut off. Silence. Black out. Roar of applause. Let's get the fuck off this stage.

And promptly shoved out of a side door for a ritual after performance fag. Jazz is ranting. She always is. And I'm not listening to her. As usual. Hands on my shoulders. Great, now I have to listen. "What the fuck was that, Emily? I've never seen you so good."

Shrug. "I think I was just being honest." Sure, we'll go with that. I actually don't know where it came from, but that sounds like a good enough answer.

Don't look at me like that, Jazz; like you've seen some secret I've been guarding, and you're both proud and sympathetic of me. Not everything means something. But it looks like she's changed her mind, because she just tells me to keep it up. "Honestly, I thought we were going to hinge of Jess' popularity, but that performance would have put us on top even if this was our first gig." Okay, Jazz. Whatever.

Last act's finishing up by the time we get back inside. Some student steps onstage to tell us that he'll tell us who won in about fifteen minutes, and that participants should use the time to clear out their equipment. Considering most of it was provided, there's not much to do but throw Jess' guitar, and Jazz's bass into a vehicle.

Where'd that pianist go? Much rather talk to her. Better take Jazz, though. She won't be too happy about my attempted recruit, but at least it'll be better if I do it in front of her.

Ah. There she is. Come on, Jazz, let's go. Approach quickly. Big smile. Genuine. "Hey, you were great up there."

Aha. Caught you by surprise. "Thanks. So were you. That last song was… Wow."

Flattery will get you everywhere, but this isn't the time. "What was your name again? Laurie…"

"Tori."

Quick glance to Jazz. Back at the pianist. "No, it isn't."

"I'm sorry?"

Jazz steps in. "Oh, come on. Girl and her piano? Girl and her piano named Tori?"

There's the realization. "But my name actually is Tori, so…"

"So? Do you think that's her real name? Or that mine is really Jazz?"

Wait a minute. What? "That's not your real name?"

You shouldn't be the one with the surprised look, here, Jazz. That's me, so knock it off. "You really didn't know that?"

Head shake. I'm sorry, why would I? You were introduced to me as Jazz. Everybody calls you Jazz. Why would I assume it was a stage name? "So, what's your real name, then?"

"Sybil," she says with a shrug.

Huh.

Was going to try to recruit the pianist (I refuse to call her Tori), but I caught the look Jazz shot me as we were talking about the girl's name. She's not interested, and pushing forward would just piss her off. Good thing that guy's back on stage. Now I don't have to continue this awkward, and now pointless, conversation. Catch her edging away now that our attention's elsewhere.

My brain laughs.

Such great performances. Empty build up. Pointless fanfare. Guy's not from the theater department, clearly. We win, and no one is surprised. Watch Jazz move to the stage to accept our prize money. Very cut and dry. Not even a thank you. Simply on and off. Not that anyone seems to care.

Suddenly I'm surrounded by people telling me how great I was, and more than a few come ons. Lost sight of all the other band members. There must be four condensed mobs of people in this little campus café. Bet mine's not even the largest. The tugging at the back of my brain is back, but it's easily drowned out.

Guess that's why I don't see it. It comes from out of the blue. One minute I'm politely turning down numerous beds to sleep in, and then I'm reeling from the slap. Hand on my face; I don't have time to recover before arms are around me.

I fight, pushing against shoulders that won't move. But only for a second, before I cling to the body in front of me. Tears I didn't know I had come spilling forth and I just bury my face in the shoulder in front of me. You see, I know the arms around me, and I know the body supporting my weight. I know them, because they are mine.

Katie's here.


End file.
